


Awaken

by IncarnadineQueen



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Action, Demons, Devil May Cry - Freeform, Devil May Cry 4 - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Faeries - Freeform, Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-06-17 21:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncarnadineQueen/pseuds/IncarnadineQueen
Summary: Set shortly after the events of DMC4. (Not compliant with DMC5) Vergil has returned from Hell and reclaimed his power from Nero. On his path of revenge against the demons of Hell for their abuse he agrees to work with Dante so long as their goals align. Vergil knows Nero is his son, but he is unaware of any woman that could be Nero's mother. Lady has collected information from Order computer systems that point to a secret research facility of great importance. They all leave to search for the facility and begin to unravel an even larger mystery when they discover a sleeping woman along with a warning not to wake her.





	1. Prologue

Hell is not home. It never has been, never will be. The lust demon staring up at him from between his thighs sneers in contempt.

“VILE.” She rears back from him and spits. “Half human seed, I should have known better.”

Vergil leans forward in an attempt to stand but is pushed back into the plush chair as the demon rises. He can tell he’s naked and filthy. Awareness of what just happened filtering in through the fog of her magic. 

“When I was offered the son of Sparda I expected something magnificent.” She’s leaning into his space, spit-shiny purple lips and red eyes filling his vision. “You aren’t good enough, I need something better, something pure.”

His fingers go white around the armrests. He does not try to stand again, instead mustering a glare and slurring the words, “Sorry to disappoint.”

The demon’s eyes slide down his body and up before she turns and leaves. Not without one last “Disgusting!” thrown back at him.

Vergil blinks and shakes the haziness from his vision. He rises on unsteady legs to begin collecting clothing he does not remember taking off. Her potent magic will take a while to recover from, but he can already feel the heat leaving his veins. Once his tattered clothing is back in place he turns sharply, eyes searching the room, momentarily forgetting he has no weapon. He has not had one for years. No Yamato. 

He only wields the sword in fever dreams, slashing and destroying everything in his path. The last few years have been a blur of trying to survive Hell without his power. He is barely getting by. Just because he has no power doesn’t mean he can’t get what he needs.

He is strong enough to work, smart enough to outwit most demons. That is how he ended up here in this armpit of Hell working with a demon who makes a living collecting souls and selling favors. Vergil knows he was just sold as one of those favors. He is not often caught off-guard like this. Unfortunately for them every wrong done to him increases his thirst for revenge. 

He has no allies, but he has contacts, and a connection outside of Hell. The plots and scheming for the last few uncounted years are finally paying off. He will get out of Hell. He will reclaim what is his.

Vergil stops abruptly at the closed door of the room and closes his eyes. With a heavy sigh he brings a hand up to sweep the long hair back from his face revealing a satisfied smirk. He will return to burn this place to the ground.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ayla spent years trapped in a dark dream. The far sparks of light were galaxies, and the closer she got to them the more color invaded her vision. Deep in sleep her mind remembered telescopic images of distant galaxies and nebulae. In her unconscious wandering she traveled the stars, and the universe became one with her soul. In her waking life she had looked through a telescope at two stars, one yellow and one blue. The color shift was so apparent and shocking to her eyes through the lense she had felt her blood rush. It was her first look at the night sky through a telescope, the impact of the experience was immediate and permanent. In her sleep she imbued her magic with power from the fabric of time and space itself, represented in explosions of colorful light as bright as stars and as vibrant as the invisible spectrum represented in telescopic imagery.

Magic is an art as much as anything else. A person’s soul bared for all of existence to see. Her thoughts travel beyond the clouds, farther than the gas giants, out to the wide open spaces. Unfathomable and unattainable. This is where she made her home, a universe inside her own mind for her to create and destroy at will. 

She travelled a million light years away to distant anomalies, knowing that upon returning she would be greeted by dust. Time and space began to meld together. She could feel the ripples in her solitary confinement. In sleep, locked inside for unmeasured amounts of time, she remade herself. Far above everything she left behind she created an ever-growing source of power within her. Steadfast against crippling odds.

Deep within her mind is where this began, and upon waking it stayed. It is locked away; inaccessible to her or anyone else. One short glimpse at a time is given to her. Whenever she looks at the night sky, or every time she yearns for something greater, the depths of her being pull her in. With time and effort one day she may awaken fully to reach that part of herself. 

She was raised on science and hard facts, but the truth of her always had been that her blood belonged to opposing ideologies. Fae are creatures of truth, but they are mysterious even to themselves. They have never been concerned with humanity or the stars. Their courts are hidden away, underground and in groves. To them magic is the way and science is foolish. Science can be tricked, the truth concealed behind thick glamour. There is no human instrument with with to measure or study magic and thus humanity is shut out. 

Ayla knows the courts, how the truth works, how magic can be used to create or destroy. She knows the cruelty of fae. None of them have ever been generous. There are rules. An eye for an eye. Balance. That is how fae magic works. The larger the sacrifice, the greater the gift.

She has sacrificed immensely at the hands of the Order of the Sword. Her attempted revenge has not been enough to balance that which was taken from her. With the Order destroyed, and thus her vengeance achieved without her involvement, she will awaken to move on and continue to build her life by balancing her humanity with her outcast fae blood.


	2. Back to the Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *EDITED 3/12/19*  
> Making some edits to the first few chapters fix obvious errors and correct some cringe-worthy sentences and structure. If you see any typos or obvious errors let me know and I will try to fix them, constructive criticism is appreciated. I am sure in a few months, with more experience, I will want to make changes again but I will refrain from serious revision until after I am completely done with the story.
> 
> Vergil returns to the human realm and has a paradoxically overwhelming day of mundane tasks.

Three months later. 

Vergil sits in the shadow of an abandoned building. It’s been three days since he finally heard that the gatekeeper is ready for him. His information network in Hell is far-reaching but consists of a few demons that cannot exactly be trusted. This particular area is long-abandoned, it used to house a horde of considerable size. For some reason the gatekeeper needs Vergil to wait here, in this abandoned area, to be transported to the human world. He arrived two days ago and has waited since. Not a soul in sight. 

He is not getting his hopes up, there are too many factors outside of his control that could cause this endeavour to fail. He has never personally contacted the gatekeeper. He has done favors and underhanded tasks to get his ‘allies’ to work with him. 

Hours pass seated under a shaded house before Vergil notices a change in the air. He stands from his position resting against a wall and turns an ear to listen. Movement in the air begins to pick up, the hair on the back of his neck stands as a massive energy builds sending waves of electricity across the ground toward his feet. Blue light engulfs his vision. He is blinded and shuts his eyes against the brightness.

In the next moment he is falling. No, not falling, but traveling at immense speed. Or perhaps he is not moving at all. He is struggling to make sense of what is happening, the forces exerted on his body are growing stronger by the second. He feels weightless and pulled in all directions at once. The sensation lasts for what feels like an eternity as adrenaline fills his veins and he is forced to keep his eyes closed against the invading light. 

On the other side the gatekeeper has prepared for his arrival in the basement of his business. He now stands waiting with a long-handled scepter dipped in ash which he used to draw ancient characters onto the floor in the gate activation ritual. The air in the room begins to shift. The man takes several steps back as energy arcs crackle across the concrete. In a flash of brilliant blue and white a body appears. 

The dizzying rush of energy that carried Vergil along the timeless path stops so abruptly that he collapses to the floor with a shout, breathing heavy at the shock of entering the mortal world.

“Don’t worry. Everyone seems to come back this way. Hell isn’t a nice place, and there aren’t many nice ways to leave it.” Vergil startles as a warm hand is set on his bare shoulder, he raises his eyes to the tall, dark-skinned man who looks down on him with a warm smile. His voice is low and comforting, “Take a moment. Get your feet under yourself. I would normally help you up to the shop, but I know you wouldn’t accept it.”

The man steps back to give Vergil space as his breathing calms. With more effort than he would care to admit Vergil rises up to his feet, standing eye-to-eye with the man who freed him from Hell.

“You never gave me your name.” Vergil speaks as smoothly as possible despite the fact that he is stark naked. 

“You can call me James, it’s good to meet you Vergil.” James reaches out with a blanket that had been tucked under an arm. When Vergil makes no move to take it he only smiles then retracts his hand to beckon with the other for Vergil to follow him. “Come on up, I have a shower and some clothes. Your retainer left an envelope for you before you arrived.”

“My retainer?” Vergil is on-guard but curious, he moves stiffly up the stairs behind James.

“Your little demon-friend. The one who watches your house? He said his name is Nebrel if I am remembering correctly.” They arrive at the top of the stairs and enter a hallway leading to another set of stairs. James points through a doorway at the end of the hall, “That’s the shop, I am taking you upstairs, I have an extra room if you want to stay for a while. Otherwise you can shower and leave. Do whatever you like.”

“I will shower and leave.” Vergil can smell the sulphuric stench of the demonic plane clinging to his skin. He was steeped in it for so long no amount of bathing will likely ever get rid of it. 

They continue up the second set of stairs to a landing with three doors. James points out the bathroom and spare bedroom. 

“Use anything you need in the bathroom, you should find all of the necessities. Clothes in the bedroom. I will be down in the shop, you can leave that way when you’re done.”

Vergil stays still as James flashes another warm grin and passes to go back downstairs. His fingers twitch as he stares at the door handle to the bathroom. He can’t remember the last time he saw a plain door in a plain house. He can’t remember what a bathroom should look like, or how soft a bed can be. 

The door opens easily at a turn of the handle. Without delay he approaches the shower and turns the water on as hot as it will go then steps in. It is frigid at first, but gradually warms to scalding hot. Vergil does nothing for several minutes but stand in the shower spray letting it wash over his head and shoulders. 

He selects a soap from the various options and vigorously scrubs at his scalp. His hair is long and tangled, he will have to do something about that, but for now all he wants is to be clean. He washes his body long enough for the water to begin to cool again. 

Once he steps out of the shower he grabs a large towel, instead of drying himself he holds it up to examine it closely. The towel is a forest green color and so soft he cannot help running his hand over the material. He snaps out of the temporary daze and sets about methodically drying himself. 

His palm brushes against the side of his face, feeling the growth of facial hair. He has not shaved in days. If there was one priority he had in Hell it was to shave as regularly as possible.

Looking toward the fogged mirror over the sink he cannot see his reflection so he takes the towel and smears it over the mirror. He sneers at the reflection, priority one is to find a barber.

With a new sense of purpose, he leaves the bathroom and heads to the spare bedroom where he was told new clothes would be waiting for him. Laid out on the bed is a pair of jeans and a black cotton shirt. They both fit well enough. He spares a glance around the room. It has a queen bed, chest of drawers, a desk, and a good sized window. It may not look like much, but to Vergil it’s more inviting than any place he has seen since losing to Mundus.

The view out of the window catches his eye. It’s bright in the late morning and there appears to be a yard of grass out back of what he assumes is a row house. His expression glazes over into a vacant stare as his mind tries to recall a time when green grass and flowers were a common sight. Again he shakes himself out of his own head to turn heel and go to the ‘shop’. The type of wares, Vergil could only guess. What would a mysterious being sell in a shop apparently located in the middle of a city?

He reaches the shop but James is not around to be seen. He takes the opportunity to look at the various items displayed. There are mostly high shelves filled with books but some areas contain baubles and trinkets. It’s a normal shop to the untrained eye, but Vergil has more knowledge of the demonic and arcane than the average human. Some of the books are rare enough that he is shocked to see them just sitting out on a shelf for anyone to take. There are several items that catch his attention. An amulet that shields the wearer from demonic lies is particularly interesting and especially rare. Before Vergil can decide to just up and leave James makes an appearance, emerging from an adjacent room. Vergil’s spine straightens and he turns when James greets him.

“Finally ready to go? If you give me a moment I will find the envelope I was told to give you.” James continues past Vergil to the front of the store where a door with the word BOOKS is etched into the frosted glass. 

“You have an interesting collection. Many buyers?” Vergil follows after him, eyes taking in more items as he goes.

“Oh, the only people who take anything from the shop are the ones who need it.” James makes eye contact before continuing, the older man gives a knowing look, “I don’t seem to have anything you need right now, but you are more than welcome to come back another time.”

Vergil feels a blanket of warmth envelop him as James speaks, he is less on-edge than he was before. He should be suspicious but he realizes he is only curious. He moves to stand in front of the counter James went behind, as if he is making a purchase.

“What exactly are you?”

“Straight to the point aren’t ya? Most are so glad to be out of Hell they don’t think about asking me any questions. I am a servant of the people. A creation of a higher power, sent here to help in whatever way I see fit.”

Vergil’s brows snap together, his expression set in suspicious disbelief.

“You are an angel.”

James smiles and puts a pointer finger to his temple.

“You could say that. It’s the closest word this language has to what I am. Are you surprised? I don’t look much like an angel do I?”

“I don’t know what one would look like.” Vergil wants to ask more about angels but instead asks why he keeps a gate from hell when the angel could be doing more pleasant tasks. “So you decided to shuttle people to and from Hell and run a bookstore.”

“My store serves a purpose. It guides lost souls, gives them the tools they need. I help those souls in and out of Hell if they need it. I heard you needed a way out.”

Vergil does not respond, the implication that he is a lost soul gives him pause. James can see the cogs turning in Vergil’s mind so he goes back to locating the envelope. A few moments of shuffling later and James has found it.

“Ah! Right here, where I left it, of course.” He hands Vergil the large manila envelope. “Go on, I assume it’s important.”

Vergil nods before tearing the seal open and sliding several smaller white envelopes out onto the counter. They are labeled numerically, he picks up the first one. It only has one piece of paper inside. A handwritten letter, the penmanship is terrible, the bottom of the letter indicates that the demon Nebrel wrote it.

Master Vergil,

I did as you said all the years ago. I got the house for you, it’s got all the books, and rooms, and food. Some human books told me how houses are supposed to look, so I tried to do that. I hope you like the house. There are directions and an address in the second envelope. 

I got you some money too, had help opening account. You need to go get the money out of it if you want, but I put some in the envelope. I hope you can read this, human language is difficult. English classes helping. 

The third envelope is the rest of what you asked for. I tracked and kept all information updated all these years. 

Come to house when ready. Bye.

-Nebrel

He sets the letter aside and opens the second envelope. Sure enough there is several hundred dollars located within. Assuming prices have not changed too drastically in the last two decades he should be able to purchase transportation and clothing along with his barber visit. 

Aside from the money there are two forms of ID, a driver’s license and a passport, obviously forged. The pictures are outdated, but he assumes if he cleans up it will look close enough. He does not question where Nebrel found pictures of him. A printed sheet of paper details the bank account set up in his name. Vergil nearly chokes when he sees the balance. It’s well over two million dollars.

He clears his throat, setting the paper aside and tossing a glance to James, who is pretending to busy himself with paperwork. The third and final envelope remains on the counter unopened. 

...the rest of what you asked for.

He slides the envelope in front of him, hesitating to open it. He could leave it unopened and walk away from everything. He has a house and enough money to last a lifetime. Rage wells up within him. No, he must continue, he will not stop until he completes what he set out to do. End the chaos in Hell, and bring it to order after exacting revenge on those who did him wrong. In order to do that he must reclaim Yamato, and thus his power. 

This envelope is thicker than the last two. It contains several papers and five photographs that Vergil immediately picks up. The first one is of Dante. He has aged a bit since their last encounter when Vergil was Nelo Angelo. That’s to be expected, even Vergil looks older now. The photo is head-on, it appears to be a photo taken of a photo of Dante.

Vergil swallows down his rising emotions and turns to the next picture. This one is of two women sitting at a bar, his brother is behind the bar pouring liquor into several glasses. He recognizes Mary. No longer the small school-girl who meddled in the events of Temen-ni-gru, her shorts and top revealing pale skin and a shapely body. The second woman Vergil knows is Trish, the demon made in his mother’s image by Mundus. It’s interesting that they would all appear to be visiting with one-another. Dante seems to keep to the same crowd. 

The next photo appears to be a candid shot from a hidden location of Dante fighting a group of demons. The Rebellion sword is swung at such speed it is blurred in the image, but Dante’s fighting stance is near perfect. Perhaps he has been taking his swordsmanship seriously. Vergil nods approvingly at the photo as he reveals the fourth photograph.

This one shocks Vergil into dropping the pictures onto the counter. His palms slam down, startling James out of his work.

“Something wrong?” His question goes unanswered. Vergil is staring at the image with such intensity James would not be surprised if it erupted in flames.

Vergil is running scenarios though his head, a multitude of possible explanations. The person in the picture is a teenager with the same white hair and bright blue eyes as Dante and himself. Could it be that Dante has a son? Who is the mother? Mary? But more importantly why does he feel like he knows the person?

He reveals the final photo, this one just as shocking as the last. The same young man is now engaged in combat. From the distance the photo was taken Vergil can still tell the sword he is using is Yamato.

He inhales abruptly through his nose and runs a hand through his hair, then brings the photo closer to his face. There is a spectre floating behind the teen, it looks like a devil-trigger. The spectre also wields a ghostly form of Yamato. 

Vergil takes several steps back from the counter, clenching the photograph in his hand as he makes several realizations. For months he has dreamed of using Yamato to destroy enemies with such force that nothing stands in his way. But in his dreams he feels removed from the battle, as if he is floating above and slightly behind himself. Could it be that he is so closely tied to this boy that he has been channeling energy in the form of a devil-trigger? It could be because Yamato is his sword, or that the this kid is his own son. But that shouldn’t be possible. He has been either trapped in servitude or in Hell for almost 20 years. 

James has continued to watch Vergil’s mental breakdown from the relative safety behind the counter. He is used to freshly returned souls sometimes unable to handle the reality of the human realm. 

“Anything I can help you with son?” Hopefully he can break Vergil’s stupor by addressing him. “Vergil?”

Vergil’s attention snaps back to James. 

“What? No, I don’t need anything.” He steps back up to the counter to read over the rest of the information on the papers that were in the envelope. The first paper is a flyer for Devil May Cry, the demon-hunting agency run by Dante. Vergil recalls Dante complaining that he wrecked the shop during the Temen-ni-gru incident. 

There is a phone number and address on the flyer, he makes a note of this and flips to the next paper. This is another handwritten page that he struggles to read. It details the photos. The first obviously being his brother, it’s from a recent magazine cover that featured Devil May Cry. The second is a photo taken at a bar near Dante’s shop, this trio is occasionally seen hunting demons together. How quaint. 

The third photo is the most recent one of Dante, only about 3 months old, taken in Fortuna during a recent crisis with the Order of the Sword. Vergil is not surprised to learn that the Order is still around, but is surprised to see Dante involved with them. 

The pictures he is most interested in are the ones of the mysterious teenager using his sword. 

This I think is interesting for you. Young demon hunter named Nero. Dante recently seen with him. Never seen him before now. Could be a spawn. Humans usually spend time with children, so maybe not. I saw your sword and got a picture, thought you would want to know. 

That is the last of the notes on the photos. Nebrel seems to have taken them himself. 

Nero. 

Not a bad name for someone who obviously has the blood of Sparda running through his veins. 

Vergil leans his elbows on the counter and places his face in his palms to take several calming breaths. James has walked away at some point but the sound of footsteps approaching indicate his return. He sets a glass of water on the counter in front of Vergil who gratefully downs it in less than a second.

“Thank you.” He hands the glass back.

“Oh it’s no problem, seems like you needed to catch your breath.”

“No. I mean...for bringing me back.” Vergil breaks eye contact, “I wouldn’t expect help, let alone from an angel.”

“Like I said, I am here to help. I will help whoever I think needs and deserves it.”

Vergil ignores the comment for now and rubs his fingers over his brow momentarily to help decide his first course of action.

“Is there a barber nearby?”

\-------------------------------------------------------

Freshly shaved and hair trimmed, Vergil is starting to feel like himself. Women passing on the street can’t seem to look away. At least nothing’s changed in that regard. He strides past several shops and turns into a men’s clothing store. He doesn’t care to spend a lot of time, but he needs well-fitting clothes.

He explains to the salesman that he is travelling and his luggage did not make it with him. They take his measurements and have him pick out shoes, socks, and undergarments before leading him to a dressing area.

“Preference for colors? We have a full range of beautifully dyed button-”

“Blue.” Vergil’s cool demeanor and natural tendency to not make small talk have made this sales experience quick but awkward for the employee, who likely tries to make sales by constantly talking.

“Sure thing. I will be right back with a few choices I am sure will fit you like a handsome glove.” 

He watches the sales rep glide away happily with the guarantee of a large sale then falls gracelessly into a chair located in the fitting area. His fingers are back at his brow, rubbing away a headache. This much stimulus and social interaction is enough to make him want to ask James to send him back to Hell. The barber did nothing but talk, the cafe was noisy with business workers on lunch, and now this flamboyant salesman won’t stop talking about how good he will look with his body type in their shirts. After this the last stop he will make is the bank. It is getting closer to 3 PM, he left James’ shop at around noon. 

Just three hours out in public and he is already done with it. Just as his headache was beginning to abate the sales rep came back with several pairs of pants and shirts draped over his arms. 

“Okay, so, I will show you what I think will work best first. You said you were here on business but that a more casual outfit will work until your luggage arrives. Try on these slacks with this shirt.” 

Vergil finally catches the name tag that reads “Jonathan” before the proposed outfit is thrust into his arms. 

“Here’s a fitting room, I will leave the rest hanging here, feel free to try them on. They should all fit according to your measurements. I will go grab a belt.” Jonathan scurries off, eager to complete the look with a nice black belt and some shoes.

Several minutes later Vergil has on all of the underwear, socks, slacks, and an icy blue button-up shirt made of a material even he admits is adequate. The black pants are a slim fit that accentuate the lean length of his legs. Jonathan seems to know what he is doing. The shirtsleeves could stand to be tailored, but he really doesn’t care. He just needs to look presentable to the bank staff when he tries to pass himself off as the person who opened the accounts. 

A realization hits him then. He doesn’t know where he is. He assumed he was in the same city as Devil May Cry or at least near where he grew up, but he has absolutely no idea. 

Just then Jonathan returns to check on his progress. Vergil emerges from the fitting room to endure the scrutiny of the sales rep who hands him a belt and shiny black shoes. As he is putting the shoes on Jonathan says the fit of the shirt could be slightly adjusted but vergil cuts him off again.

“The shirt is fine, I will wear everything out.”

Jonathan looks thrilled that the sale has been made and leads vergil up to the counter to ring him up. 

“Alright, your total today will be...234.28.”

Vergil hands over three hundred dollars.

“Is there a National Bank branch near here?”

“Yes, their building is three blocks down if you make a left when you leave.”

“Thank you.” Vergil accepts the return cash and leaves a 50 for Jonathan who exuberantly leads him out of the shop.

The walk toward the bank gives Vergil enough time to plan out his next few steps. Once the finances are in order he will need to figure out where he is. He should find a hotel and transportation to the city that houses Devil May Cry. He is hoping he is not too much farther away than Fortuna. More than a day of travel among all of these humans will likely drive him to insanity. 

The National Bank building comes up faster than he anticipated, he walks in and is greeted by a professional young woman who is obviously dazed at his appearance. Her eyes don’t stop traveling over him from head to toe.

“Welcome to National Bank, what can I assist you with today?” Her fake smile makes his stomach churn.

“I need to speak with an advisor about my account and withdraw some funds. I lost all of my cards and account information while traveling.” He prepares for the inevitable customer service barrage.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry that happened, come right this way, I will get an advisor for you. What is your name?”

“Gilver Redgrave.” Vergil follows the woman to a nicely-furnished waiting area and takes a seat.

“Well Mr. Redgrave we will have someone for you in just a few moments.” She flashes another fake smile and saunters through the double glass doors into an area of the bank with offices and desks for meeting with customers.

True to her word, not three minutes later the greeter returns with another woman dressed in a full business suit with a professional air about her that automatically tells Vergil she knows what she is doing. 

“Hello Mr. Redgrave, I am Emily and I be assisting you today.” She reaches out a hand that Vergil takes reluctantly. She shakes his hand confidently then turns to go back through the doors. His first human contact was not so bad. He ignores his gut instinct to run and never touch another human again. He can feel the greeter’s eyes on him as he follows Emily to her office.

“Come in, take a seat, I understand you lost all of your bank cards? Do you have any ID?”

He hands over the license and passport. 

“Perfect, allow me one moment to look up your information.”

For the first time since Vergil got back he realizes that technology has massively changed. Her computer appears to be nothing more than a flat screen and a keyboard. He watches as she pulls up various windows with lightning speed. 

“I have your account pulled up Mr Redgrave. I see you do not typically use your main checking account. Other than a few regular payments there are no charges, it appears your information has not been compromised on any of the accounts.”

Vergil leans forward.

“May I see the account balances?”

“Of course” She swivels the screen toward him and points out the four accounts listed on the screen, “This is your checking, savings, and these two are your investments.”

“Looks alright.” He clears his throat. Two million was not an accurate representation. That was just what is in the checking account. He didn’t actually register the amounts in the other accounts, but it was many more millions of dollars. Nebrel will have some questions to answer.

“Great, well what I am doing right now is having another checking account card created for you. Luckily we can make these instantly upstairs. Our concierge can call a hotel and transportation for you if you need.”

“That would be excellent. I have not made reservations.” Vergil shifts in the chair, he might explode if he has to pretend to be this calm about that much money for any longer. 

Emily types at blazing speed for another few minutes then rises. 

“I have cancelled the old card, the concierge is calling the Hyatt down the street, we will have you dropped off by car if you like.”

“I just passed there, I prefer to walk.” He follows as she leads him out the door.

“Very well. Please have a seat in the waiting room again, Mr. Redgrave. The concierge will return with your card and some more information for you.”

“Thank you.” Vergil again takes a seat. His fists are clenched and one leg is crossed over the other. He feels like he could run 100 miles on this level of energy. 

By the time the concierge, a man in his mid 50s, arrives he is able to control himself better. He stands to take the proffered folder that contains his banking information, hotel reservation, and a voucher for black-car service should he need it during his stay in the city. He is then handed a metal case with the National Bank logo engraved into it.

“An RFID-protected card case. I figured that you would have lost your wallet if all of your cards are missing. Will you be needing anything else?”

Vergil remembers he was going to make a withdrawal but that was before he knew it would be this easy to get a new card.

“No, not today, thank you.”

“Thank you, sir, your hotel reservation is ready. Have a wonderful evening.” The concierge tips his head and leaves.

It doesn’t take long to get to the hotel and check-in. His room his on the top floor. It’s a suite with access to the rooftop pool and several other amenities Vergil did not pay attention to. Once inside he can finally relax in the solitude of the room. He does not need to turn lights on to see that there is a desk and a couch in the front room and an open door leading to the bedroom. 

On the coffee table is a little pop-up cardboard sign reading “Digital Concierge”. It’s a tablet. He has noticed almost every person has a flat tablet-like device with them, this must just be a larger version.

The tablet activates when he picks it up. One of the options on the screen is a map. Because of the hotel materials he can gather he is at the “Haven Hyatt”. The city must be called Haven, which means he is about 50 miles southwest of where the Temen-ni-gru was raised.

Of all of the places on Earth he could have ended up 50 miles away is not bad. 

He reviews the map then hits the back button to get to the other screen. There is an option for transportation. It brings up flights, cars, and rentals. He selects cars and gets the pricing for the trip to the suburban area where Devil May Cry should be located. He then finds the flyer he saw earlier with the address on it, enters the information, and a pickup time of seven AM.

The tablet is set gently back down on the glass table. Vergil begins to undo the buttons of the shirt and the belt. His shoes are slipped off and left to lie in a haphazard trail to the bedroom. Belt, pants, and socks are removed as well as the button-down shirt. He hangs everything in the small closet and finds the bathroom. 

The human world again. It’s so busy and loud. People going about their business with no real cares or ambitions. He can’t stand it. Can’t stand Hell either, but Hell is the one place he might be able to make a difference.

Vergil stares himself down in the mirror. His hair has become tousled and dark circles have formed under his eyes. Thinking can wait, for now he just needs to sleep. He slams the light off and falls ungracefully onto the bed, not caring to pull back the duvet. Sleep claims him before he can register the inviting softness of the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, first chapter!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this. I love how Vergil generally doesn't care about things that a normal person would care about, like politeness or hot women staring at him.
> 
> Of course this is my characterization of him, but I feel like he has some bigger fish to fry.
> 
> Next chapter Dante and Vergil meet for the first time in years. Please let me know if there are typos or grammatical errors, I know those are so annoying to have to read and it is a super easy fix!


	3. Expiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil shows up at Devil May Cry.

The car had arrived at exactly 6:58 AM. Vergil had been waiting for five minutes in the lobby when the driver had pulled in. He was eager to get going.

 

Now that he is on the road to Devil May Cry a looming sense of dread begins to consume him. The last time he saw his brother in person he was summarily destroyed and sent to Hell as a shadow of the man he once was. Not that there was much left of him when he became a servant of Mundus anyway. When he had initially lost the battle he had made a critical error that, looking back, led to his downfall. He had the upper hand, or at least thought he did, but Mundus was not the Sovereign of Hell for no reason. He had been biding his time testing and studying Vergil, looking for an opportunity.

 

Yamato is a weapon with abilities that draw upon the power and technique of the wielder. It will not allow just anyone to tap into its endless potential. Vergil admittedly had not fully understood the capabilities of the sword and how much of his soul had been infused with it. As the battle with Mundus escalated he began to realize his severe disadvantage. 

 

He had rushed in with a suicidal bloodlust after being weakened by the events at Temen-ni-gru; not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. It had taken years of hard work to raise the tower. Seeing Dante, the fighting, it all took a toll. Mundus could sense this weariness and had likely worked out that Vergil was placing more and more of his power and life into Yamato out of desperation.

 

The chance to strike a finishing blow presented itself while Mundus charged an attack. Vergil took the opportunity to pour every ounce of willpower into a final swing. 

 

Then nothing. 

 

When his soul shattered he felt nothing.

 

When Mundus corrupted him he felt nothing.

 

The life he knew before was gone, sealed deep within himself himself. 

 

Mundus waited until Yamato had absorbed so much of Vergil that he could break the connection between them and be left with a puppet. Albeit a quite powerful puppet. Yamato was destroyed in the event and cast out of Hell so that it could not be used against him. Even in its broken form it still posed a threat.

 

So did Vergil himself. There is something to be said for a man who won’t stay down. His sense of honor remained. His intelligence remained. And, though diminished, he still had formidable strength and speed. Old memories would emerge occasionally. Over and over Mundus would lock them tightly away. The only thing that could break that lock would not appear for years.

 

Once the memories had returned fully his body regained strength and his appearance improved. Now, sitting in the executive car on his way to see Dante, Vergil still has a ghostly complexion. He was always pale but being sheet white is a clear indicator of the corruption that still exists within him. That might explain some of the stares he gets on the street.

 

He does not know exactly what became of Yamato. He has a fairly good idea that it was destroyed, or at least the blade had been broken. There should be no way to repair it in the human world but he is sure that the dreams of using it are not just arbitrary. The sword is likely with Nero as a result of its restoration. The information he was given suggests that Nero and Dante see each other regularly. Which brings him back to where he is now: on his way to visit the brother that killed him so he can have his sword back from a boy who is clearly a descendant of Sparda.

 

He sinks further into the leather seat to lean his head back. Why else would he be here? There is a nagging thought at the back of his head that tells him he wants to see Dante. It is starting to become difficult to ignore. After being ‘freed’ from Mundus and trapped in Hell Vergil had a long time to think about the decisions he had made. It all went wrong the day he learned that Dante.  He chose to abandon family and humanity. This time it might be worth it to stick around and talk to Dante. It’s what his mother would have told him to do.

 

The remnants of Temen-ni-gru come into view. He is mildly surprised that it is still here. His lips curve ever so slightly at the thought that he raised a literal Hell tower and it still exists as a monument to his accomplishments. Only a few minutes stand between him and a high number of unknowns. There isn’t much for him to lose anyway, might as well see what happens. He closes his eyes against the rising morning sun and waits.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

 

The downstairs couch at Devil May Cry gets a lot of use. From Dante passing out on it in the afternoon, to Dante passing out on it in the early morning. Who needs to use the bed when a perfectly fine couch is just a few strides from the front door?

 

This morning was a particularly brutal one. Ever since the Hell gates in Fortuna were closed a few months ago Dante, Lady, Trish, and even Nero, have been on clean-up duty. It’s amazing the amount of demons one person can kill for there to still be more. Dante had been out solo all night dealing with everything from weak-ass scarecrows to bigger scythe-wielding death harbingers. 

 

He fell face-first into the couch not ten minutes ago when the sound of a car pulling up brought him out of his light slumber.

 

“Can’t a guy catch a break? WE’RE CLOSED!” He hopes the shout will deter whoever it is from trying the door. He is damn sure he didn’t lock it. He pushes himself up off the couch to go start the coffee maker, might as well find out what this is about. As he’s refilling the water he hears the front door open and close.

 

“Listen, I’m not taking any jobs right now. So unless you are a babe askin’ for a date or deliverin’ a-” He stops short after rounding the corner. Standing at the door is an almost mirror-copy of himself, if he was an office worker who never saw the light of day.

 

Vergil had worked up the courage to come in here and confront his brother and now all he can do is stand at the front door like a fool. All words and thoughts escape him when Dante appears. The pictures can’t ever get it right, but here in person Dante has a presence that dominates the room. That oversized red coat and messy hair. The back talk; It feels as if Vergil’s life has all come rushing back at him. He continues his silent staring contest with Dante, fingers clenching and unclenching in rhythmic time.

 

“Vergil.” Dante, on the other hand, has processed the situation faster than most would give him credit for. In a few long strides he is standing face-to-face with Vergil, eyes squinting to scrutinize every detail of his long dead twin.

 

“Who else would it be?” Vergil replies dryly, though he is glad Dante broke the silence first. A hand lands on his shoulder then lifts away within an instant. He gives Dante a raised eyebrow in question.

 

“Ya...that sounds like you alright. I just…” He takes several steps back and spreads his arms in the universal sign that he has no idea what to do or say. “I killed you.”

 

Vergil expected something like this from his overly emotional brother, though Dante does seem to be handling it well.

 

“First, I am not dead, nor was I ever dead. Second, I am here for the sword.” He has never been one to mince words.

 

“Well that’s a fine ‘How d'ye do’. It’s been, what, 10 or so years since I didn’t kill you? You show up looking like you just left your bank teller job to get your sword back? I don’t think so, not this time Vergil. You have explaining to do, a lot of it.” Dante’s arms cross over his chest and his expression remains serious, but his voice softens to say, “You owe me that.”

 

Here are the crossroads.The turning point which Vergil has been debating with himself since the day he was no longer Mundus’ thrall. Stay and explain to Dante everything that has happened; or leave and find a way to get Yamato back on his own. Deep down he has always known the answer. Admitting it is the difficult part. Resurgent memories of his childhood with Dante are not all good, but the good parts are the best. They may have had a rivalry, and Vergil may have picked on Dante, but they had a fairly close relationship before their mother was murdered and they were separated. 

 

He does not expect to have a close relationship with Dante now, but since the years have passed by with no ally in sight perhaps it is time to try and at least understand his brother.

 

“What do you want to know?” Vergil mirrors Dante’s posture.

 

Dante is clearly surprised that Vergil is cooperating. He shakes his head and turns to the side.

 

“What- What do I even…” He points with an accusatory finger. “If you have been alive this whole time, what kept you from letting me know?”

 

“I was trapped in Hell.”

 

“Trapped my ass. You’re here now, aren’t you? There are ways to get messages in and out.”

 

Vergil sighs heavily while shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The coffee-maker dings.

 

“Do you think we could continue this discussion sitting down?”

 

Dante is even more taken aback, he’s staring with his mouth agape. Vergil wants to sit down? And talk? When they were younger swords would have been drawn and one of them run-through by now. Most likely himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

“I guess, ya. Have a seat.” He gestures to the couch. “I’m gonna grab the coffee.”

 

Both brothers seem grateful for the chance to collect themselves. Vergil lets out a rush of air as he slumps onto the couch. Dante leans his forehead against the kitchen counter to take in a few breaths. The liquid pooling in his eyes is threatening to fall but he doesn’t have time for that now. The source of so much of his pain is sitting on his couch and he can’t tell if he wants to embrace him or cut his head off.

 

Vergil, on the other hand, has no tears but a headache is forming between his brows. He did not expect to be accepted with open arms. He expected to have Rebellion stuck through his chest. In his current state he is not sure how well he would recover from that. Dante’s mild anger is a relief more than anything. He can handle angry and out-play anyone with calm control. 

 

Dante emerges with two steaming mugs and hands one over to Vergil before downing his in one go. Vergil quickly finishes his own as Dante paces in front of the couch. 

 

“Well? What do you want to know?” Vergil sets the mug on the floor for, lack of a better place, and readies himself for an emotional tirade.

 

“What do you mean ‘what do I want to know’? The last time I saw you, you exploded into flames. You were all pale and veiny. In fact you look pale now, more than me.” Dante stops his pacing to take in a deep breath. He steps over to the other end of the couch and sits with his forearms resting on his spread knees. Vergil follows his movements but remains silent.

 

“What happened Vergil?” He keeps his eyes to the ground,“What happened to you after Temen-ni-gru?”

  
  


Vergil breaks his stare to look over the various weapons hanging on the wall. He takes his time answering. Mostly because he will have to admit to his greatest failure out loud and that is not something he has ever felt ready to do.

 

“I lost to Mundus.” 

 

Dante eyes Vergil’s clenched fists, understanding that his brother would rather die than admit defeat. He decides to tread carefully during this conversation. It would be just like him to drive his estranged brother off in the first ten minutes of their reunion. 

 

“I…” Dante is grasping at air, “So, you confronted Mundus and lost. I gathered that from the fact that you are not currently sitting on the throne of hell. How did it happen?”

 

“I was weakened from our battles in Temen-ni-gru. When I entered Hell I went to confront him, as you say. During the course of our battle it seemed I might have the upper hand. Unfortunately he was only waiting for a moment to remove Yamato from me. He sealed most of my power into the sword from what I understand.”

 

Dante nods.

 

“You put too much of yourself into it.” He watches as Vergil’s chest rises and falls in an effort to maintain composure.

 

“I did. I am still weakened and need to regain my power. It’s with the sword.”

 

Dante leans back and lets out a low whistle.

 

“A lot has happened recently.”

 

Vergil sends a glare at his brother, meaningless talk isn’t what he came here for. Dante sighs and rises again.

 

“I don’t have Yamato.”

 

Vergil stands as well, taking his usual stance with his arms crossed over his chest. 

 

“I can tell that. I am not here to fight you, I just want Yamato.”

 

“That might be more complicated than you think.” Dante turns away to walk along the wall of weapons. “I don’t have the sword because it went with you into Hell but...apparently it made its way back here.” He turns backl. “The interesting thing is its with someone who shares the blood of Sparda with us.”

 

Vergil feigns a look of mild surprise which morphs into disbelief.

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that there is a teenager, spitting image of you and I, wielding Yamato as if he was born with it in his hand. Now I don’t have a kid, and you have supposedly been enslaved or in Hell for the better part of 20 years.” Dante lifts his hand palm-up as if serving the information to Vergil. 

 

“Such a mystery. Whoever has it is irrelevant, the sword is mine, it contains my power.” Vergil steps toward the front door, Dante moves to block his exit.

 

“Look, this conversation isn’t going anywhere so I will cut to the chase. The kid’s name is Nero. He defeated the Order of the Sword using Yamato. I let him keep it.”

 

Vergil stops short to stare Dante in the eye. While he wants to focus on Yamato, this new information is rather interesting.

 

“If he truly is related to Sparda then it is no surprise he has the ability to wield it.”

 

“Tried and true. If you saw him you would know it.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

Dante steps around Vergil, confident his brother will stay at this point, and makes his way over to the desk to move some papers around.

 

“I don’t know if you should just go looking for him.”

 

“You don’t trust me.” Vergil has stayed near the door, but he does not intend to leave. Dante’s chin drops to his chest, he heaves a breath.

 

“I don’t think it’s a matter of trust at this point Vergil. You have been gone. For years I believed you’re dead. I gave the sword to him knowing you would never return. I gave him a mantle of responsibility that I can’t just take away regardless of if I think you should have it.”

 

“So, you intend to keep me from my power, from the one memento our father gave me.”

 

“It’s not that simple-”

 

Vergil cuts him off.

 

“It is. It is my right, Yamato is mine to have, it contains part of me. I know it has been restored, I know it has been used, I have felt it and seen it. You cannot keep me from it.” Vergil has made his way over to Dante, who remains behind his desk but has taken up a more defensive posture. He has no plans to outright attack his brother, but he can’t blame him for his caution.

 

Dante raises his hands in surrender.    
  


“Alright, I get it. I really do. I don’t know if I can trust you, but apparently this isn’t about that. For everything you have done you got what you deserve.” Dante moves to the front of the desk, into Vergil’s personal space, neither of them backing down. “What do you plan to do once you have Yamato?”

 

Vergil knows that Dante is concerned, not for him, but for everyone else should he get his power back. He should be, it’s not like Vergil has the best track record.

 

“You may have noticed some unusual demonic activity. From inside Hell it’s complete chaos, there is no order or governance, demons who are powerful enough go to war for loyalty and land.”

 

“So what? You intend to put Hell to order?”

 

“No, but I do plan to return.” Vergil is clearly not being truthful, but Dante continues to hear him out. “If I regain my power, I will not do anything to the human realm. I have not yet decided what course of action to take, but my business is with the demons of Hell.”

 

It’s at this time a vehicle can be heard pulling up outside. Dante’s head whips around, eyes going wide.

 

“Things might get messy.” He does not give an answer when Vergil questions him, he only moves between the door and his brother.

 

It swings open and through it steps Lady, her boots thudding on the floor as she steps inside.

 

“Dante, still up I see.” Her casual attitude shifts as she notices the person standing a few feet behind Dante’s broad form. “Who is-no. NO WAY. Is that Vergil?”

 

Dante had been hoping he could talk to her before she noticed what was going on, a futile effort and one he knew would not work anyway. If anyone might want to actually kill Vergil it’s Lady, and in the state he is in she might actually be able to do it.

 

“Listen Lady, yes, it’s Vergil. He isn’t here to fight, we’re just talking.”

 

“Just talking to your dead brother? Are you sure that’s him?”

 

“Hello, Mary.” Vergil chimes in. Simultaneously proving himself to her and attracting her wrathful attention.

 

Lady blows past Dante to step up and glare into Vergil’s face, which is difficult due to their difference in height. Vergil respectfully remains in place while casting a level gaze over her face then locking eyes with her. 

 

“I don’t know what Hell pit you crawled out of, but you should crawl right back into it. You aren’t welcome here, and if you so much as make a move I will blow your head off.”

 

“I will gladly return to my Hell pit as soon as I get what I came here for.” Fortunately Vergil finds her more amusing than annoying. She is exactly as he remembers. It’s amazing she is still alive, that hot headed attitude would get her killed in Hell.

 

“And what exactly is that?”

 

“Hold on there Lady. Vergil was just explaining all of that to me. I’m willing to hear him out, he hasn’t done anything bad so far.”

 

Lady backs away from Vergil until her legs hit the couch, she falls into it and crosses one leg over the other. 

 

“Go ahead. Give me one reason not to blow this place up just to end both of you.”

 

“Now I know for sure you wouldn’t do that, but just in case...” Dante trails off trying to think of something to say before Vergil surprises everyone by speaking first.

 

“I know my past has haunted you. I am here to reclaim what is mine. As I was just explaining to Dante, I have no feud with the human realm, I will leave it well enough alone.”

 

“That’s all fine and good, but I have a suspicion your appearance isn’t a coincidence. We don’t know what you have been up to. Seeing as Dante thought he killed you we have not tried to keep tabs, now you show up out of the blue.”

 

Dante takes this opportunity to cut in.

 

“A coincidence?” The brothers stand side by side as they look questioningly at Lady, who maintains her casual position on the couch.

 

“Ever since the Hell gates in Fortuna have been closed we have been doing a pretty good job of cleaning up the demons. I felt like we were all making some pretty good progress, but while we were distracted it seems some other demonic activity has picked up.” Lady pulls a phone from her back pocket and brings up a map. She walks over to Dante to show him a picture of a coastal town. “Demons have been originating from this area. Not just few and far between, but regularly. It’s not unusual for there to be sightings in the area over the last few years, but they have ramped up. The locals are not usually too bothered, but even they are starting to get antsy.”

 

“That town is 200 miles south of Fortuna. What does that have to do with us?”

 

Vergil has made his way to lean against the wall, arms folded, as he listens to Lady.

 

“Other than the fact that your brother is resurrected, which is suspicious in and of itself, I have gotten some interesting intel from my informants. I heard that about ten years back a woman from that town went missing. The information I have gathered is that she was held by the Order of the Sword and never seen again.”

 

Dante sighs. 

 

“More Order business.” Lady’s network is just as reliable as his own, they can trust the information. “Alright, I think I can see where this is going. What did you find out?”

 

“Well, since we recently dismantled their whole operation I have access to their buildings and computer systems. It was not to difficult to get help analyzing all of their data. More specifically, all of the data regarding their facilities. There is a reference to a secret facility in the Mitis forest, every piece of information is strangely missing from official records. The only hints to its existence is the lack of information, leaving a hole in the data.”

 

Dante and Vergil flash each other a look of understanding. Everything leaves a shadow.

 

“Sounds like you need help investigating. Demon activity and a secret Order facility linked to said activity. Sounds like a regular mystery. Vergil, why don’t you come along? It could be interesting.” 

 

Vergil pushes off of the wall at his suggestion.

 

“Demons entering the human world is interesting enough for me. If we can find out more, I am willing to cooperate.”

 

Dante nods and turns to Lady.

 

“How does that sound. Maybe getting to know him a bit better will smooth things over.”

 

“I doubt it. There is one thing though. I told Trish and Nero to meet us here.”

 

Dante closes his eyes against the ringing in his head. It’s one thing after another today.

 

“I assume Nero is going to bring Yamato?” Vergil maintains the notion that he has no knowledge of Nero or the weapon.

 

“Ya, that would be right.” Dante sighs and runs a hand over his face, missing the glare Lady sends his way. “May as well make some more coffee.”

 

“I got it.” Lady stands and saunters into the kitchen, clearly familiar with the layout of Devil May Cry.

 

“Listen, when Nero gets here… he probably isn’t going to take anything lying down.”

 

“I expect nothing less from a descendant of Sparda.” Vergil settles back on the couch and Dante takes a seat in his desk chair.

 

“You know... I’m willing to give you a chance. If Nero will give it to you, you should have Yamato.”

 

Vergil’s eyes widen. He was not expecting this at all. The only thing in his realm of possibility was that he would have to try to forcibly take the sword. Dante will let him have it. 

 

“Thank you.” His response is serious, it carries the weight of his gratitude. Dante only nods his head once in return. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

After two more pots of coffee and plenty of tense silence the sound of footsteps can be heard approaching. The double doors slam open to reveal Trish with the Sparda sword at her back.

 

“Hey! Trish!” Dante spreads his arms in greeting and Lady waves from her seat on the desk.

 

“Dante, Lady...Vergil.” She nods her head to him, not in the least bit surprised to see Dante’s brother back from the dead. “I figured you would turn up sooner or later. Didn’t think it would take you this long.”

 

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. Those two never expected me.” Vergil’s familiarity with Trish only extends to the times he saw her as Nelo Angelo. Neither ever concerned themselves with the other’s plight. He can appreciate her level-headedness.

 

Dante launches into excuses explaining why he couldn’t  have known and how he never thought to look for Vergil as Trish places her weapon back in its place on the wall. Vergil’s attention is drawn away, he looks out the open door to a figure coming up the steps. 

 

It’s Nero. The white hair and large sword on his back give him away instantly. He steps inside without being noticed by the rest of the group, who have started discussing what to do with Vergil. Lady’s voice escalates, but neither Vergil or Nero are paying any attention to her.

 

Their eyes lock onto each other. Vergil rises from the couch as the rest of the conversation dies. 

 

“Looks like I’m late to the family reunion.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive. I promise. I don't want anyone to think that I have abandoned this fic. I have already worked on it for months before I started posting. I hit a real rough patch this last month, but I am back in my groove...somewhat.
> 
> I don't promise to post regularly as I am a Master's student and work full time. Also, I plan to take part in Kinktober and need to start planning/writing now. 
> 
> I will be creating a tumblr dedicated to writing and will have a link up to it soon. 
> 
> I also went back and read my first chapter. I already can tell where I need improvement and have worked harder to make this chapter flow better.
> 
> Our main character will show up next chapter! Then we will really get this started!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Rise and Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One big family reunion. Lots of revelations. Vergil and Nero face off in what is probably the shortest battle ever. Includes special appearance of the main fucking OC. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO. I am alive and have come bearing an update. This chapter has been so hard to write. How do you fit all of this emotional information into one chapter??? 
> 
> I have had a hard time getting to the actual plot of this story because I need to set up the actual DMC story and tie up loose ends from that before introducing the new characters and locations. This is the last 'intro' chapter, the next update will kick off our main story and will be much more exciting for me to write.

“Looks like I’m late for the family reunion.”

The room turns silent as Dante, Lady, and Trish bring their attention to the staring match between Vergil and Nero. Dante steps over to mediate the introductions.

“You aren’t wrong kid. This is my brother, Vergil. He’s been gone for a long time, just showed up today.” 

Nero’s eyes shift between the two brothers noting their differences. Vergil seems slim compared to Dante, and Dante is a bit sunkissed compared to the ghostly pallor of his brother. Nero was wondering if he was related to Dante before, he now has some confirmation that he is. White hair is not a standard genetic trait.

“So, you in town on business or something?” Nero assumes a nonchalant demeanor.

“You could say that. You have an interesting weapon.” Vergil’s eyes flick to the handle of the sword rising over Nero’s shoulder.

“Oh, ya, my trusty Red Queen. I never leave without her.” He can’t pin down why Vergil is setting him on edge, but he doesn’t like it. His fists are balled and he hasn’t made a move since he noticed him.

“I have felt similarly about my own weapons.” Vergil’s reply emphasizes the word ‘own’, hinting at the deeper meaning of his statement. 

While their tone seems conversational, Dante knows first hand that this interaction is going to devolve into a fight. Before Nero can come up with a snarky response Dante is interjecting.

“I think that what my brother is trying to say is that a weapon can become a part of its wielder. Without you your sword is incomplete, it goes the same the other way around.”

At this point it’s clear that Nero is catching on to why Vergil might be here. With a blue flash Yamato appears in his hand. Vergil noticeably stiffens his stance.

“‘It was originally my brother’s’. That’s what you told me before.” He looks to Vergil, who, with effort, breaks his gaze from Yamato. “I guess you will be wanting this back?”

“You would be right.” Vergil says.

Nero brings Yamato up to inspect it, holding the slender weapon reverently in both hands.

“And if I don’t want to give it to you?” Nero raises his chin as Vergil steps closer. Dante’s internal alarm bells are blaring at full volume, but before he can lift a hand to stop his murderous sibling Vergil halts a scant couple of feet away from Nero.

“I’ll make you a deal. Fight me for it.” He raises his chin to stare down his nose at Nero, which isn’t necessary due to their difference in height, but it is a familiar tactic. For his part, Nero does not seem surprised, but his eyes travel over Vergil’s unassuming form. The cogs are turning in his head, Vergil allows him a few seconds to think before continuing, “If you win, you keep it. If I win, the sword returns to me.”

Lady and Trish have remained silent and still until this point, choosing to observe the bizarre interaction without interfering. Nobody knows how strong Vergil is now. If he is offering up a fight, especially for Yamato, he knows he can win. 

“You’re on. You have a weapon?” Nero is ready with his reply immediately, his cocky attitude won’t let him back down. Vergil is banking on it.

Lady scoffs and rolls her eyes. Trish only smirks in response.

Vergil looks to Dante who sighs and stares him dead in the eye as he offers Rebellion.

“Swords only...and give Yamato to Dante.” Vergil says as he tests the weight of the sword. Nero readily hands over the katana.

“Alright, how do you want to do this?” Nero says as he retrieves Red Queen to check over the propellant gauges.

“Any hit that would be fatal in battle wins. First to surrender loses. First to be disarmed loses.” 

Nero offers his demonic hand and Vergil reaches out without hesitation to seal their little contract with a single firm shake.

“No wrecking the shop, let’s take this outside.” Though he sounds serious, Dante is somewhat interested in seeing how Nero will fare against Vergil. 

Out in the street Vergil notes that the sun has risen high into the sky yet the area is deserted. Dante’s shop appears to be in the seedier nightlife part of town, all of the establishments have closed for the day. 

Trish leans into Lady to say, “This should be entertaining.”

Lady continues to glare in Vergil’s direction.  
“If that asshole makes one wrong move he’s getting blown sky high.” She says with vitriol.

Vergil and Nero stand silently facing each other about 20 paces apart with weapons in hand. Vergil’s stance is casual but they all know he is ready to move with lightning speed, except for Nero, who has never encountered or seen Vergil in battle. Nero mimics the casual atmosphere Vergil is giving off, resting Red Queen on his shoulder and tapping his foot.

“Well, get to it then!” Dante’s words officially start their duel. Nero drops into his fighting stance and engages the Exceed propellant release on Red Queen.

When Vergil doesn’t appear to be making a move Nero sends over a wave of fire. It is easily deflected by Rebellion.

“Heh, alright.” Nero comments and thumbs his nose before he breaks into a flat-out sprint. He brings his sword up at the last moment. In an instant almost too fast to track Vergil has blocked the swing and retaliated. Nero barely dodges. Rebellion misses his side by less than an inch.

Dante is analyzing Vergil’s strategy from the doorway of Devil May Cry. He is surprised the fight didn’t end immediately. Nero is impulsive and young, ready to rush in without observing his opponent thoroughly. He has fought plenty of battles, but he has not fought someone like this. Even Dante had gone easy on him, ending their fights before they could escalate. 

Vergil is the master of patience; choosing to have his enemy come to him. Nero is playing right into Vergil’s strategy, just as Dante has done in the past. Nero has gotten lucky in battle before, and has had Yamato’s power to back him up recently. He has learned a lot though, maybe he really did dodge the attack. Dante’s eyes narrow, tracking every minute movement his brother makes.

More clashes pass in similar fashion. Vergil parries and retaliates several times, with Nero defending against each attack with textbook technique. While Nero may be a skilled fighter, Vergil has seen enough.

Dante knows the end is coming before his brother has made a move.

Unfortunately Nero does not have the same awareness and engages; swinging Red Queen upward and diagonal. He is blocked once again by the broad edge of Rebellion. Vergil sends him stumbling backward several steps then moves in to carry the momentum of Nero’s mistake. Before Nero has regained his footing he has to block a stab. One thrust of Rebellion turns into many. Vergil does not relent, he presses onward, the motion of Rebellion becoming blurred as he continues his onslaught. 

Anyone who has seen Dante in battle can recognize the technique. While Vergil may not be as strong, he skillfully wields the weapon to his advantage. Using one thrust more powerful than the rest he has Nero on the ground. Before Red Queen can be brought up in defence the point of Rebellion’s blade digs into the skin of his throat.

The battle is over. Dante releases the breath he was holding while hoping Nero would recover and break through Vergil’s attack.

Recognizing that he underestimated Vergil, Nero lowers his sword while turning his head away in a signal of surrender. Vergil relents.

“Your technique is good, you were taught well. Though, you still have much to learn.” Vergil says, taking several steps back from Nero.

Dante approaches and reaches down a hand to Nero who pushes it aside to stand on his own.

“Ya, well...you aren’t so bad, for someone who dresses like a corporate middle manager.” Nero says while dusting himself off. He makes eye contact with Vergil, showing he isn’t afraid of a loss. He is caught off guard when Yamato is thrust in front of him by Dante. 

“It’s yours to give.” Is Dante’s answer to the silent question in Nero's eyes.

Nero nods and places Red Queen on his back to take Yamato. In turn Dante takes Rebellion from Vergil before heading back toward Trish and Lady.

“This is a good sword, I can understand why you would want it back.” Nero says. Then, using his demon arm, he reaches out and offers Yamato to Vergil.

Vergil’s expression does not change, a lesser being would fall and weep to convey his heart-rending longing. But he is in control even though he almost cannot believe that he is about to be reunited with his sword. He has thought about this moment every day for as long as he can remember. Now that the time has finally come he does not hesitate.

The moment Vergil’s hand comes into contact with Yamato’s scabbard the weapon begins to glow a brilliant blue. Nero’s eyes widen as his arm also takes on a similar glow. 

Violet energy erupts from Vergil as his demonic power takes over. He can feel it traveling into him from Nero, Yamato is acting as the conduit through which the transfer is made. The rush of power is indescribable, it’s invigorating, he can feel his physical body strengthening and his mental weariness fading. 

Vergil watches as Nero falls to his knees still clutching Yamato. Dante and Trish appear unconcerned, even somber, while Lady looks on warily as the transfer of power is completed. Though it goes unspoken, this could potentially be disastrous, they are all preparing for the worst.

Nero releases Yamato and brings his arm to his chest while staring at Vergil’s triggered form. The blue demon standing in front of him is large and intimidating. Vergil’s demonic form is very similar to Dante’s, though the blue hue his skin takes on makes him unmistakably Vergil. Seconds tick by but Vergil’s power seems to grow still, a breeze has kicked up from the flow of energy in the area. 

“That’s more like it.” Vergil’s aura glows blue-violet as he stands in the afterglow of his regained strength. “You gave your word and you have honored it. One day you will be worthy as my opponent.”

With these words Vergil reverts back to his human form. The color has risen in his skin and he can already tell his body is strengthening. After almost two decades he feels whole again.

All attention turns to Nero when he gives a sound of alarm. He is still on the ground, but now he is holding his hands in front of himself. He turns to Dante to reveal that the demonic appendage is now just a normal human arm.

“It was you the whole time.” Nero rises to his feet, his left hand grasping at his right wrist. “You were the one that that was in my head. I could feel you every time I used the sword.”

“I knew you had Yamato as well.” Vergil walks past Nero and Dante to enter Devil May Cry, expecting the others to follow. 

Once inside Vergil begins to speak again.

“Long ago I was defeated in battle by the ruler of Hell. My power was sealed inside of the sword before the blade was broken and cast out of Hell.” He approaches Nero to look him in the eye. “You restored the blade and gained use of my power as a result.”

“I was doing alright without it, but it did help me defeat the Order and save Kyrie. So thanks I guess.” Nero swipes at his nose and turns to Dante. “You told me before when I asked that you don’t know how I am related to Sparda- that I’m not your son. It’s starting to look like I have an answer.”

“Ya, about that-” Dante is cut off by Lady, who walks up to Nero with her phone. 

“I didn’t know when a good time would be for this. You might want to take a look too Vergil.” She opens a document and sets the phone down on the table. Nero and Vergil approach, casting each other a short glance.

“...Successful completion of the Dark Angel Project occurred earlier this month. The child survived the process, this is the only experiment to yield successful results. The child’s name is Nero and he is the only surviving descendant of Sparda through his son...Vergil.” Nero stops there. Heavy silence follows his reading, he clenches both of his now human fists.

“That settles it then, Vergil is your father. I never figured my brother would be the one to have a kid…” Dante trails off as Vergil turns away from Nero, his jaw set to grind diamond.

“It doesn’t matter. The only thing I had that was close to a father died with the Order. Now that we have our answer, Lady, didn’t you call us here for something?”

The tension in the air could not be more thick, but Lady isn’t one to ask emotional questions. Especially when the secretive and volatile twin is clenching his fists that hard.

“Right, I did. I told you and Trish that I have some information regarding the Order. What you just learned was only part of it. In that same document is a reference to a facility in the Mitis Forest. Everywhere else in the data any references to this facility have been erased. The Order wanted to hide whatever is there, I have a hunch and some clues but not much else. I think it has to do with you and the Dark Angel Project.”

Nero rubs his chin in thought.

“Secret facility huh? Sounds about right, Credo always did keep his duties on the down low. Lots of secret goings on. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is something out there.”

Trish steps up to the door with the Sparda sword perched at her shoulders. 

 

“Only one way to find out, I call shotgun.” She says.

“Hey, no fair, I have longer legs!” Dante follows her out the door to Lady’s SUV, “Wait, we won’t all fit in here.”

Lady follows to help figure out travel arrangements, their voices fade as they step farther away from the door.

“So, I take it you didn’t know about me.” Nero says this to Vergil’s back.

“No. This changes nothing.” With that Vergil exits through the door. Nero nods to himself, it’s not like he expected anything anyway.

When Nero emerges he gathers that the group is planning ways to split up and meet at the forest.

“I’ll take my own ride, meet you there. Just send me a message with the meeting place.” He heads toward a motorcycle parked across the street.

Lady gives the next direction.

“I guess we can all fit now. Weapons in the back, ladies in the front.”

Dante groans, but follows orders. He opens the back of the spacious SUV and secures Rebellion to the makeshift weapons rack Lady has installed. Trish follows suit.

Vergil has remained standing near the door appearing to contemplate the existence of a nearby lightpost.

“Hey, Vergil. You coming?” Dante stirs Vergil from his dissociative episode. He expects Vergil to decide he has had enough and leave.

In the meantime Vergil has been relishing the feeling of being whole again and tamping down the emotions of being told he has a son. Just yesterday he was still trapped in Hell with nothing but some rags for clothing, now he is standing fully restored in the human world with his brother not ten feet away inviting him on an investigation. He can tell Dante is trying, but it will be a while before anyone can trust him. He will have moved on by then anyway. For now he should investigate this lead on demon activity and seek out its origins.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” He steps up to the car door and gets into the back without complaint. Dante does not say anything about him still holding onto Yamato. 

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. I sent Nero a place for us to meet up, we will start searching from there.” Lady says while she makes brief eye contact with Vergil in the rear-view mirror, letting him know she is keeping an eye on him. 

“Shotgun gets to pick the music.” Trish connects her phone to the sound system to play some road tripping tunes as Lady pulls out onto the main street out of town toward Fortuna. While the trio of friends sing and chat Vergil silently watches the world go by.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------

Nero beat them to the designated spot in the forest and had begun looking over the cliffs to spot anything out of place. When they were all finally together Lady opened a large map and placed it on a nearby rock to review the area.

“Okay so, what are the areas you all have already been to?”

Dante and Nero step up to look over her shoulder.

“This is the Order building that was destroyed. I have been all through these ruins and this part of the forest.” Nero points out the areas as he talks. “Dante, I remember you jumping off of this cliff.”

“Ya, I spent some time around there, didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

Vergil approaches then and points to a section of the map called Verdant Trails.

“I know this area well, I explored it thoroughly before raising Temen-Ni-Gru.”

Nero whips around to him.

“YOU are the one who summoned that tower?”

Vergil only nods in response.

“Oh, you don’t know anything about that asshole.” Lady isn’t in the mood to hash out everything Vergil has or has not done, the sooner they find the facility the sooner she can ditch him. It’s a pain sometimes that she will do just about anything for Dante. “Either way, that only leaves these two major areas that are unexplored.” Her pointer finger taps the map over both then circles the closest one. “We’ll start here.”

“Let’s get to it.” Dante begins cutting through the trees on a direct path to the area. All follow suit, listening silently.

“Depending on how long it’s been abandoned it might be hidden by foliage, so keep a lookout. Is there anything special we should be looking for Nero?”

“I know the order likes to use large metal gate-like doors to conceal more of its important research areas. It would probably be something like that.”

The thick underbrush of the forest is sliced to pieces and trampled under their steps. The scent in the air is earthy but fresh and the vibrant green of their surroundings make for a picturesque outing. Bird calls and the sound of water can be heard, the only break in ambience is Trish’s call.

“Looks like I found something!” 

The rest of the group round the side of hill, coming to a stop in the clearing where Trish waits. She points to a dug-out area of the hill, a metal door several meters tall and just as wide is partially obscured by greenery. The Order of the Sword insignia can be partially seen engraved into the metal.

“HAH! Good work Trish, let’s bust this open.” Dante starts to approach the door but is stopped by Vergil’s voice.

“Mind if I do the honors?” He waves Yamato to point at the heavy metal opening. Dante puts his hands up, palms out, in front of his chest and stands aside.

Vergil sizes up the door. For the first time in almost 20 years he will be able to unleash his true power. Even if it is for a short second. In a blur of motion he unsheathes Yamato and slashes the air several times. By the time the weapon is resheathed the pieces of the large door are crumbling to the ground. Dust kicks up and obscures the afternoon sun.

The group picks their way through the rubble. As they approach the door Lady notices a sign had been posted outside and was only revealed by Vergil’s attack.

“Well this is ominous.” The group turns to watch her uncover the warning sign and turn it toward them.

 

“Exactly the kind of thing I would put up if I didn’t want anyone snooping around.” Trish quips, everyone seems to be in agreement and they continue on into the darkness.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Once inside Lady pulls a small LED flashlight out of her pouch. The front room is dusty, but a wall panel next to the entrance can be seen. She holds the flashlight as Nero tears the metal cover off of the panel.

“All Order facilities have independent power sources that should be able to last for at least a decade on their own.” Nero says as he searches the wall panel.

“Yup, still has power, I will turn on emergency lighting...It looks like power is still on for another area…” He flicks a switch and dim lights illuminate their surroundings.

The walls and floor are concrete, various sizes of pipes run along the ceiling through several doorways. Most of them lead through what looks main door.

Dante steps up to this door and with a gentle shove slides it open.

The site has been abandoned, but once through this doorway it appears as though a tornado destroyed everything. Desks are flipped, chairs broken and a number of scientific instruments have been destroyed.

“Geeze, looks like a battle took place.” Lady can recognize the signs of a good fight.

“A bloody one.” Dante points to several marks on the floor and walls that appear to be bloodstains. “But no bodies left behind.”

The group continues on, deeper into the facility. The low lighting flickers in places, causing shadows to cast ominously on some of the more unsettling finds. Cylindrical tanks of varying sizes line a couple of the rooms; most of which are destroyed. 

“Who was here, and why would they attack?” Trish wonders aloud.

“I can think of plenty of reasons someone would attack.” Vergil bites out the last word, clearly agitated, but he does not elaborate.

They continue on until they reach a large, mostly empty room with a vault door. Without a word Vergil steps forward and charges Yamato, the door is slashed to pieces and when the dust settles a blue light shines forth. 

The group is collectively silent as they gaze upon the floating figure of a woman suspended in a beam of pale light. Her dark hair has fanned out around her, and the white medical robe she is wearing moves gently as if a light draft is traveling through the vault. Though the blue light washes out her pale skin they can tell she is an adult, but youthful, likely in her 20s.

Finally Dante speaks up, “Who the hell is she?”

Lady moves forward to the computer screens adjacent to the vault door. Nero approaches the woman floating in the vault and looks over her. He notes she is dressed plainly and bears no evidence of a fight. 

“These old codes still work, I should be able to access the files for this facility.” Lady speaks while bringing up information on the screens. “Dark Angel Project, that’s-” She cuts herself off, everyone turns to look at Nero with the mention of the project that brought him into existence. Lady continues.

“There were many test subjects. There are files on them. Look, this one is highlighted in red.” She says.

Dante steps toward the woman.

“We should probably get her out, who knows how long she has been down here.” 

“WAIT!” Lady’s urgency stops him. “Look at this.”

The screen shows the unknown woman’s face and beside it the words:  
.

Lady selects the file to open. There is a bold message at the top of the screen: 

 

“Dangerous huh?” Dante and the rest look over the seemingly average young woman. He knows better than to judge a book by its cover. He glances back to Lady with Kalina Ann slung across her back.

Lady pulls entry 1088 up to the largest screen so they can all read it. It details a violent attack on the facility that resulted in the deaths of 87 people. The attacker was the woman now held in the stasis vault. It took 21 angel prototypes to subdue her.

“That’s impressive. It doesn’t look like she would be able to fight those things off.” Trish says as she moves over to the floating woman.

“Right? And she killed 87 people. No wonder they threw her in here.” Lady says.

The conversation continues. Vergil remains quietly to the side looking over the room and studying the woman in the tank.

Lady searches through more information and comes to an overview page about the test subject. It displays an image of the woman beside a separate image of Vergil. This catches her attention. Below their pictures reads:  
.  
A chill goes down Lady’s spine.

Conversation ceases as she steps away from the computer abruptly. She looks between Vergil, Nero and the woman. 

Lady brings up the page on the large screen, showing the pictures and genetic compatibility.

“Oh. Is she…?” Dante points to the floating woman.

“Yes, it confirms this farther down. She is Nero’s mother.” Lady says as she scrolls through the page, highlighting the information. “It says that she provided the genetic code but did not carry him. She was compatible with Vergil to the degree that they were able to…” Her words fade out. Dante and Trish step back from the woman to allow Nero to approach her. 

He has yet to make any statement, but is now studying her face. Dante is also studying him in profile, comparing Nero to the floating woman. He really does look like he could be her son.

“How do we get her out?” He looks to Lady. She goes back to the main warning page to look for a way to deactivate the stasis. Dante continues to read the mysterious woman’s overview page and entry 1088. Vergil is by his side reading as well. His eyes occasionally flicking to her. 

“She’s been in here for 10 years.” Dante remarks with a hint of surprise. 

“It doesn’t look like she has.” Trish says incredulously.

Vergil has remained silent through all of this. 

Dante turns to him, “So, she provided some genetic code huh?”

All eyes on Vergil.

“I have never seen her before today.” He squares his shoulders at Dante. Now is not the time for joking around, “I would remember such an encounter.”

“All questions aside, it looks like I can deactivate the stasis chamber.” Lady has been searching through another screen while the brothers read the woman’s file.

The blue light from the vault dims. Before she can fall to the ground Dante has swept in to catch her under her arms, picking her up in a hug. Trish helps maneuver her into a position where Dante can carry her bridal style.

“You got everything?” He calls to Lady. She removes a flash drive from the computer and pushes the power off.

“I’m just checking to make sure there isn’t anyone else locked up in here…” Lady says while typing and clicking away at the computer, her external drive is currently imaging the data so she can analyze it later.

For the few moments it takes to complete the download everyone including Vergil is looking over the woman in Dante’s arms. She appears to be asleep. Aside from an occasional twitch of her fingers she is still, her eyes remain closed and her breathing even. 

“How long do you think before Sleeping Beauty wakes up?” Trish asks, leaning into the woman’s face to asses her condition.

“No idea, I'm not even sure we used the correct procedure to wake her up.” Lady has also stepped over to look over the sleeping woman, at least she thinks it's sleep, it could be a coma for all they know.

Nero has been looking around the room, not talking, and not bothering to do anything about the woman who was just confirmed to be his mother. This day has been insane. He lets out a long sigh. He just wants to go home to Kyrie, she always knows how to help him think things through.

“Hey, I’m going to head back if you all have this handled.” He turns to the group as he says this, Dante, Trish, and Lady all give a look of understanding. Vergil does not acknowledge that Nero has spoken and instead continues to intently study the woman lying limp in his brother’s arms. Dante nods to Nero in acknowledgement.

“We’ll see you soon.” Trish says as she gives a wave. Nero bushes past them on his way out.

He was not the only one to notice Vergil’s staring, Dante has been closely monitoring his twin the whole time they have been together. Vergil may have always been intense and focused, but he has spent a lot of time ignoring the world to look at nothing...or in this case he is at least looking at something of interest. He is inscrutable as ever, and Dante does not intend to ask probing questions just yet. If his brother decides to stick around he might try to get him to open up at some point. For now he will just plan on Vergil being gone forever as soon as he has what he needs.

Vergil knows he has not been paying attention. He is having a difficult time focusing, which is generally the opposite of a problem he would have. He has never felt so stretched thin emotionally. Escaping Hell, seeing Dante, learning he has a son, immediately finding said son’s mother in the middle of ten-year nap. This all has taken quite a toll. He should just carry on with his own personal revenge, but he cannot bring himself to do anything but stand still, torn between erupting into pure energy and crawling back into Hell.

“Yup. Let's get out of here, this place is giving me bad vibes.” Lady says as she rips the drive from the computer. She leads the way back through the doorway, past all of the rooms with the sinister cylinders and science equipment which now looks ominous and gruesome through the eyes of those who understand the kinds of experiments run in this hidden facility.

Vergil is the last to make it out of the front entry, he lingers for a moment to look over his shoulder before following the others back to Lady’s SUV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am participating in NaNoWriMo and will just be writing this fic for it. So expect quite a bit of updates coming up. I actually have the plot outlined and planned already, just gotta sit down and write between the full-time job and my grad school work.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I appreciate the kudos! 
> 
> Visit me at incarnadinequeenfiction.tumblr.com, I am doing some Kinktober stuff for the Voltron, Kylux, and DMC fandoms.


	5. It Has Begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally awake Ayla comes to terms with her long slumber and meets the DMC crew. Unfortunately her and Vergil don't have the smoothest start.

On the drive back to Devil May Cry Trish did not play music and the little conversation there was surrounded the mystery of the sleeping woman. Who she is, where she came from, how strong she might be, and whether or not she is human. Her body lay limp in Dante’s arms on the walk back to the car, she was placed in the middle of the beige leather back seat between him and Vergil.

Yet again Vergil stared at nothing on the way back and chose not to engage in conversation. He made no movement except to occasionally shift to support the unconscious occupant as they took a turn. By the time they had made it back to the city his eyes had long been closed and his chin had tilted lower and lower, despite this he remained awake and would occasionally check their surroundings.

They arrive at Devil May Cry a couple of hours later, the afternoon sun beginning to lower to the horizon. The woman is lain on a musty spare mattress on the second floor of the shop. Light coming in through the window highlights suspended motes of dust as Trish moves to sit in a high-back leather chair next to the bed. Dante has hunched over with Lady to examine their guest while Vergil looks on from his spot against the door frame. The woman has been showing more signs of movement. Her eyelashes flutter minutely but her eyes still do not open. 

“This will be very overwhelming. She has been asleep for 10 years… I can’t imagine it.” Lady seems sympathetic, her hand softly brushes the dark hair out of the woman’s eyes. 

“And this room is getting crowded.” Trish says from her seat, eying Dante who looks over to her and points at his own chest incredulously. She nods at him.

“I don’t think you should stick around.” Lady directs her comment at Vergil, who breaks his gaze from the woman’s face to narrow his eyes at her.

“What do you mean by that?” Dante asks. Vergil shifts his weight, a subtle movement giving away his agitation.

“Well, for one thing, when she wakes up it will be a shock. We don’t know what exactly happened before she decided to attack the order. And she is going to want to know how long she has been under; we can’t exactly lie about that. Then to top it off we don’t know her history with the Order or Nero. Vergil is the father of her son who she does not seem to have been a willing participant in creating.” She crosses her arms over her chest; feeling that she summed things up and made her point fairly well.

In the silence that follows Lady’s explanation Vergil pushes away from the door frame and casts a final look over the sleeping woman. 

“There are things I have to do anyway.” He leaves without having to hear any more, anxious to move on in any case. There are items to bring to order, and now there are loose ends to tie up.

“Well, whatever happens I’m staying close by. If she really was able to kill all of those people then she is dangerous. Not that I don’t think you two can handle it.” He backs away from Lady and Trish who have given him side-long glares. 

“We will need to handle the situation delicately.” Trish has learned a lot about humans and one important piece of information is that men are not always the best choice to handle anything with empathy.

“I’ll just be downstairs.” Dante leaves the room with his hands up in surrender, a gesture he uses frequently when Trish and Lady are around.

“How is it that she is still alive, the machine she was in must have supported her?” Lady wonders aloud.

“That might be it, or maybe there is something else we don’t know. We have to assume she isn’t human.” Trish is intelligent, she knows there is more to this woman than meets the eye. “During my time infiltrating the Order I saw some of the areas used to research the Angelos. The armor and demon souls would be joined and stored in a similar way she was. The blue light must come from the energy used to sustain the souls within the armor, and in turn may work on living things.”

“I was thinking that too. She looks like your average human, but she would never have gotten as far as she did fighting them. I would not have survived a stunt like that, thought it seems like they wanted her alive, which is just a tad unsettling.” Lady trails off. 

“Do you think she is a demon? The genetic compatibility score was high. I don’t know what they were measuring for, but I assume a normal human wouldn’t have been as compatible with a half-demon.” Lady looks more closely into the face of the woman, who now seems to breathe more deeply and evenly than before.

“Demon or not, she has the answers to a lot of questions.” Trish leans forward in her chair and points, “Look.” 

Lady looks just in time to see the woman’s hand clench and relax as she releases a sigh.

“Finally coming out of it.” Lady steps back to give some space.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The soft voices in her head gain more clarity with time, she recognizes them as people talking, but the call of sleep still keeps her for a while more. When she begins to wake she takes a deep breath and stretches her fingers. Then her eyes open wide. Immediately panic sets in. This room is unfamiliar. The dusty scent, the cream colored popcorn ceiling, and the woman currently standing over her are a stark contrast to where she remembers being before. 

“What…” She squints against the light and lifts up onto her elbows. A rush of dizziness has her dropping back to the pillow.

“Welcome to the waking world.” Lady speaks uncharacteristically gently. “You’re safe here, just relax, you were sleeping for a long time.” It’s an understatement, Trish and Lady make brief eye-contact. 

Ayla opens her eyes slowly this time and sits up. She looks over to the two women in the room. They don’t appear threatening, the blonde one sitting in the chair is softy smiling and the one standing closer to her is giving her a respectful amount of space. They both have a concerned air about them which has Ayla trusting them more readily than she should.

“Uh…” Ayla groans softly as she sits up. Her eyes linger on the thin white gown she is wearing. “The Order. Wait...I was with the Order. What happened?” She turns to throw her legs over the side of the bed and stand before being stopped by another bout of nausea. Lady steps forward to place a hand on Ayla’s shoulder as she leans over to rest her head in her hands.

“It’s alright. Take your time, we are not exactly sure what happened. We were hoping you could help us answer some questions.” Lady looks back to Trish with wide eyes and a shrug of her shoulders.

“Can you tell us your name?” Trish asks.

“Ayla.” Though her voice is muffled by her hands Lady and Trish can still understand.

“Okay Ayla, I’m trish and that’s Lady. We found you at an Order facility outside of Fortuna. We brought you back here not too long ago and have been waiting for you to wake up. What’s the last thing you remember?” Trish does not want to give too much information right away, it’s best to let Ayla process things one step at a time. 

“I’m not sure…” Ayla sits up straighter now eyes rapidly taking in the room, doorway, window, and finally landing back on Trish. “I attacked them. I have to make sure they never hurt anyone again.” Her mental clarity is returning, along with the memories of what happened in the lead up to her attack on the Order facility.

Lady’s eyebrows draw together and her mouth turns down.

“The Order of the Sword hurt you?” She feigns ignorance, trying to determine how much Ayla already knows and whether or not she is a threat to them.

“My s-...I have a son. I didn’t know what they were doing with me, I thought they just wanted power. But I found him, and I became so angry. I went to destroy the place they had held me, I didn’t expect to survive.” Ayla talks while staring at her hands, which are resting in her lap, as memories slowly solidify in her mind. After several seconds of silence she looks to Lady and Trish, “Where am I?”

Lady and Trish share a glance, Trish rises from her seat to look out the window. Lady makes her way to the door, “I will be right back, just going to grab some things for you, Trish will answer any questions you have.”

Trish explains where they are in relation to Fortuna and what Devil May Cry is. 

“Demon hunters huh? Makes sense that you would be caught up in Order business. They seem obsessed with demons.” Ayla has been flexing her fingers and toes, slowly stretching her muscles as she listens to Trish.

Lady returns from downstairs with a small bundle of clothing and a glass of water.

“Here, I don’t know how well these will fit you, but we can get you better clothes later. She sets down a dark hoodie and some black workout leggings. “I have a couple pairs of shoes in my car that you might be able to wear.” She hands Ayla the glass of water which is gratefully accepted.

“So you both are demon hunters? Were you hunting demons in Fortuna?” Ayla says between gulps of water.

“Actually, we were following a lead about a missing person who may have some links to some demon activity. That’s when we found you, we believe you may be the missing person.” Lady slowly starts to pace the room as she talks, avoiding too much eye contact with Ayla.

“Missing person? Are there people looking for me?” Ayla sets the empty glass down, a pit opening in her stomach. Lady continues to face away from her.

“They stopped searching a long time ago.” Trish looks her in the eye, waiting for Ayla to catch on to her meaning.

Ayla’s complexion pales.

“How long?” Her voice is weak.

“Ten years” Lady says as she turns back to Ayla. The silence is excruciating, she watches as Ayla’s expression turns from scared confusion to despair.

“You...can’t be serious. Ten years? I have been there for ten years?! What year is it? What’s the date?” Ayla stands to look out the window. She area is unfamiliar and she can’t tell by the sun’s low afternoon position what time of year it is. 

Trish waits beside Lady for Ayla to finish looking out of the window.

“I’m sorry.” She says, “It’s true. It’s February 25th. You went missing in June ten years ago.”

Lady has made her way toward the door in case Ayla decides to bolt. 

“Everyone I know must think I’m dead. My mother, my friends. Everyone, they will have moved on by now. I have to get back home.” Ayla’s hands grasp at her hair and gently pull ash she paces the room in a circle. “No, I went there expecting to die, I never was going to return anyway. But I’m not dead. I need to tell them, if they are still there...still alive.” Tears start to form in her eyes, she blinks them back, tamping down the desperation rising in her.

“We know, and we will take you there as soon as we can. But we have some more questions to ask before we can do that, okay?. Trish and I will give you some time to think. Just let us know if you need us for anything.” Lady says then beckons Trish to follow her out of the door.

As soon as the door shuts Ayla sinks to her knees as her tears finally fall.

“Ten years…” She swipes at her cheeks, there is no time to cry. She is determined to find out more information as anger takes her over. Whoever put her to sleep will pay, she will make sure of it. For now she needs to get her bearings and pick up a life she has been gone from for a decade. She chokes back a sob when she remembers the child she had just learned about. Her son is now ten years older, a teenager. She wonders where he is. 

Instead of wallowing in self-pity she stands, downs the rest of the water, and puts the hoodie and leggings on. She searches for a bathroom and when she finds one examines her face in the mirror. She looks the same as the day she charged into the Order during her vengeful suicide mission. Her side-swept bangs hang lower into her eyes than she remembers, she keeps brushing them away. 

Ayla slowly descends the stairs leading to the main office of Devil May Cry. She examines the various weapons hanging on the walls and makes note of the jukebox and bar. She sees Lady and Trish talking with a man in a red coat, but what grabs her attention is his stark white hair.

“Ayla, you are down here faster than we thought you would be.” Lady says to her as the trio turn their gazes to her.

Ayla’s eyes never leave Dante, she descends the stairs and strides over to him.

“Who are you?” She examines him up-close, trying to look into the face of a man who is almost a foot taller than her.

“My name is Dante, nice to meet you.” He holds out a hand, attempting to make a good impression, but she makes no move to return his greeting.

Instead she steps away from him backing up and eyeing Lady and Trish.

“What is going on here?” Ayla’s frustration is showing through in her voice.

“What do you mean?” Asks Lady.

“You have white hair, my son has white hair. You look like him. I am smart enough to start drawing conclusions.” Ayla points an accusatory finger at Dante who once again throws his hands up in front of him.

“Whoa, whoa. This isn’t what you might be thinking. Yes, I am related to Nero, but I’m not his father.” Dante decides he may as well throw all of the information out at once and let Ayla sift through it all. “His father is around, but not here right now. And before you go pointing more fingers, he has never seen you and only just became aware of his son today. So I would say that you two are in a similar position.”

“Nero?” Ayla asks, disregarding everything else Dante said in favor of her son’s name.

“Yes, Nero. That’s his name.” Dante walks over to his desk to sit in his chair.

“I am going to need proof of everything you all are telling me. I need something to prove what day it is, that you got me from the Order, that I have a son named Nero. All of it.” Ayla sits down on the couch and glances expectantly around the room to Trish, Lady, and Dante in turn. 

“Okay.” Lady steps forward with her phone and unlocks the screen. “Look, here is the date.”

“Whoa, is that a smartphone?” Ayla takes it from Lady.

“Ya, I guess those were pretty new ten years ago…” Lady trails off, she is overly conscious of what she is saying now. It’s bizzare to talk to someone missing the past ten years of technological advancement.

“Okay, I guess I can trust the date. What about the Order of the Sword? And my son and his father? You said he doesn’t know me, I can assume he was also used by the Order?” Ayla hands Lady back the phone and directs her questions to Dante.

Dante leans back in his chair, resting the back on his head on his interlaced fingers. 

“First off, I’ll inform you that the Order of the Sword was recently dismantled by yours truly. With the help of Lady, Trish, and Nero.”

“You’re telling me that the Order is destroyed? And my own son helped.” She is pleased with the information, if not somewhat incredulous. “How did you find me? And where is Nero now?”

Trish steps forward to answer these questions.

“We found you thanks to Lady. She has been collecting information on demon activity and found some clues leading to a secret Order facility in the forest. In fact, she has a lot of data gathered from their computer that you might be interested in.” Trish looks to Lady, who gives a nod of affirmation.

“I do have a lot of information, I still need to get it off of the external drive and onto a readable format, which will take a while.” Lady explains.

“As for Nero. He was with us when we found you. But he only learned of you and his father today, he left shortly after we got you out of stasis. We are giving him some time to think over everything.” Trish sits down on the couch near Ayla and pauses in her explanation.

“I can understand that, it must be so overwhelming for him. And if I am to believe everything you all are saying, his father just learned of him and I today as well?” Ayla looks from Trish to Dante.

“It’s my brother actually, and yes. He said he has never seen you before, and everything else he has said and done indicates he never knew he had a son.” Dante leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I have to let you know a couple of things about my brother though…”

“What is it?” Ayla is suspicious.

“Well, where do I start?” Dante look to Trish and Lady for support. Lady pipes up first.

“Want to start with his evil plan to open the gate to Hell to claim power? Or maybe that he was thought to be dead for the past 15 to 20 years and suddenly showed up this morning claiming to have been trapped in Hell the whole time?” Lady’s tone belies her dislike of Dante’s brother. Dante cringes at her words, she’s right though, best to be upfront about Vergil.

“Ya, I guess those are the best places to start…” Dante trails off again.

“You know what, I need some air.” Ayla stands from the couch and walks toward the double doors. Lady blocks her path.

“Hold on, you aren’t just leaving are you?” She says.

 

“No, I just want to go for a walk, I need to look around outside. I need to get my bearings. You all keep throwing information at me and I can’t handle it. Just let me go around the block and come right back.” Ayla is tired despite her ten years of sleep. She just needs a few minutes to get herself together and organize all of this new information.

“You don’t have any shoes on.” Lady points out.

“This isn’t exactly the best neighborhood either.” Dante interjects.

“I can take care of myself.” When nobody denies it she continues, “Didn’t you say you had a couple of pairs of shoes I can try on?”

“Right,” Lady purses her lips in thought, like she wants to say something but is thinking better of it, “I’ll be right back.” She exits through the door and goes to her SUV.

“Is that alright? Am I allowed to go?” Ayla asks Trish and Dante. She knows she could leave if she wanted, but she wants to leave them with at least a modicum of trust.

“We aren’t going to keep you here, but we would appreciate if you would come back and help answer some questions we have.” Trish has risen from the couch to lean against Dante’s desk. They had been silently communicating behind Ayla’s back, but now that her attention is back on them they are feigning nonchalance. 

“I will come back, you have my word. I need some time.” Ayla promises with sincerity. “When I come back I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“Fine, take as much time as you need.” Dante waves a hand as if releasing her from his presence. Lady walks back in holding a pair of sandals and track shoes.

“Do you have a preference?” She raises them up for Ayla.

“I’ll take the sandals.”

\--------------------------------------------

Out on the street the pedestrian traffic has begun to pick up as workers are starting to head out to shops on their way home. Not too far from Devil May Cry, about three blocks to the east, there are several stores selling clothes, food, and general necessities. Ayla picks her way through the commuters, keeping an eye out for obvious signs she spent the last decade asleep. One of the first things she notices is that everyone seems to have a smartphone and a lot of people to have it in their hands whether or not they are actively using it.

Otherwise the fashion has not changed too drastically, this city is a far cry from her own hometown, which has a casual atmosphere over the gothic grit found here. Most blue-collar workers wear polos and jeans; standard fare even ten years ago. It may just be the fact that this is a lower income area, but things don’t appear to have changed that much.

In a desire to avoid speaking to anyone Ayla takes the next left down a quieter street. She passes a free paper dispenser and immediately steps back to it to confirm the date once again. The February air does not bite her toes as much as she thought it would Fortuna is much colder. The farther she walks the more the foot-traffic dies down, pedestrians are now few and far between. The red brick buildings in the area appear to be industrial factories and warehouses, the workers let out after early starts.

The air shifts around her as she nears a wide gap between two buildings, she stops her stride to asses the change in atmosphere. A man in heavy work boots rapidly thudding against the concrete charges toward her from the alley, huffing out the words ‘You need to run’ as he passes. She had tensed up, ready to defend herself, but now she only stares at the man’s retreating form. Her eyes narrow. Whatever he was running from is worth an investigation. She enters the alley and finds that about 25 feet down it opens into a courtyard, wide enough for delivery trucks to maneuver into loading bays. Unmistakable grunts and scuffing of shoes become apparent as she approaches the open area. The scraping of metal against the cement stands out among various gruesome squelching noises. With her instinct to crouch down taking over she hunches low and sticks close to the wall.

She peers around the corner into the open area expecting to find a scuffle between some angry drunk men but instead is met with a horrific sight. The bodies of several workers lay close to a truck they had been unloading. Their attackers appear to be walking burlap sacks with various sharp objects attached to them.

“Well, that’s something.” Ayla mutters under her breath, keeping focused on concealing herself and making a plan to destroy the obvious demon infestation. Out of the corner of her eye a flash catches her attention, by the time she turns her head to look it’s gone. A commotion back at the truck has her whipping her head around again just in time to see several of the demonic beings explode.

The exploded bits rain around the area and begin to evaporate into black smoke. Ayla sees the figure of a man rising to full height and several things at once enter her mind. He has white hair, he has a sword, and he killed the demon potato sacks faster than Ayla could see it happen. This is Dante’s brother, and by extension Nero’s father.

She continues to watch as several more potato sack demons spill out of the back of the rig. Before they can so much as take a swing at their new opponent they are sliced open, their hellish contents spilling out and dissipating. Ayla can see that they are mostly filled with insects, though what kind of insect she cannot tell. She watches the silver haired man sheath his sword in a slow methodical manner as if he is acting in reverence. 

Ayla pushes herself up and away from the wall attempting to be quiet though there is no reason to. It’s pointless anyway, as soon as she has moved the man whips around to face her. Even from this distance she can register mild confusion then recognition in his expression. She proceeds toward him, hands resting in the hoodie pocket, taking him in from head to toe. He’s tall, and broad, but has a grace his brother lacks. His hair is swept back in a look that make his sharp features even more severe. Ayla stops several feet before and brings her vision to his eyes just as he has completed his own assessment of herself. 

She can only imagine what she must look like in comparison, wearing sandals and a hooded jacket, her hair hasn’t been brushed for years. The silence between them is starting to make her uncomfortable, but what is she supposed to say? What is there to say?

“Finally awake. I am not much of a morning person myself.” Vergil eyes her tangled hair.

“Right.” Ayla looks down at herself in exaggerated fashion. “I don’t really have much to choose from, considering I don’t even know where I am and I just found out what day it is.”

“I’m surprised they let you go.” 

“I needed space. I promised them I would come back.”

“Will you?”

Ayla’s brows draw together as a mild anger takes over.

“Of course I will. I said I would.” She huffs, and settles her weight onto one foot. “They told me about you.”

“Oh?” 

At Vergil’s unconcerned reply Ayla gently closes her eyes and takes a breath. In through the nose...and out through the mouth.

“My name is Ayla. I want to thank you for helping me; waking me.” Ayla speaks in earnest, but her hope that he will approve of her gratitude is quickly snuffed.

“Is that what you want?” Vergil partially turns from her to survey their surroundings.

“I-” Angry heat rises to Ayla’s cheeks, before she can tear into him Vergil is raising a hand to silence her. “What are-”  
Her angry statement is cut off by the fastest swing of a sword she has ever seen. The weapon is sheathed before the thudding of the body is heard from beside her. The large demon turns to black smoke, it’s scythe lays abandoned beside it.

To her credit Ayla processes the events quickly. 

“Thanks. And yes, in this moment that is what I want. To thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Vergil runs his fingers over the hilt of Yamato, focusing on the binding. Ayla is making to turn away from him when he speaks again. “My name is Vergil.”

She stops part way through her turn to look back at him. His eyes are boring into her own.

“As for myself, I made no promises. But I will go back with you.” 

Ayla squints at him through her confusion. This is the most bizzare interaction she has had so far today. All questions she had before are gone; replaced with a casual interest in her strange companion. 

“Okay…” She watches as he strides past her, near enough that she feels heat coming off of him. 

She tails a few feet behind him; staring blankly at is back and letting him guide them in the direction of Devil May Cry. Maybe she is tired, or her brain finally broke, but now she’s on autopilot to allow Vergil to lead the way. Once or twice she notices him glance back at her out of the corner of his eye. He has not deigned to look at her much or make eye contact for very long. Ayla’s hands squeeze into fists, her eyes burn with the beginnings of tears again, his time for reasons she cannot understand. She went on a walk to sort out her informational and emotional overload. It has only resulted in more confusion and anger, which she would rather not unfairly direct at the man she just met. But, she looks up at his silvery hair, something about him tells her that he won’t be easy to handle. She can’t even remember what Dante had told her about him, apparently he is dangerous and has been gone for a long time, and now she is following him like a duckling.

That though snaps her back into awareness of her surroundings, they are getting closer to Devil May Cry now. She picks up her stride to walk beside Vergil the rest of the way, he only briefly glances down at her but makes no change to his pace. Ayla assumes that means he will allow it.

Upon arrival at their destination Vergil holds the door open for her, the gesture is somewhat unexpected and causes her to pause momentarily before stepping inside. She had been debating if it’s even worth trying to talk to him if he is just going to ignore her.

“Well shit, look who’s back.” Dante announces as Ayla enters his line of sight, she gives him a small smile.

“I promised didn’t I?”

Dante is about to reply but his jaw drops when Vergil enters; shutting the door behind himself.

“Now this is something I really didn’t expect.” Dante steps around the front of his desk to greet his twin, holding back any excitement for now.

“Things are getting…complicated.” Vergil pointedly glances at Ayla’s back as she retreats toward the couch. Dante cocks an eyebrow back at him.

Trish can be heard in the kitchen area and Lady makes her presence known by descending the stairs with stomping steps.

“Welcome back Ayla.” Lady disregards Vergil and takes a seat on the couch not far from Ayla. “Feeling better.”

“Uh…” Ayla glances to Vergil then back to Lady. “I think so, doing alright all things considered. Vergil helped me out on the way back.” She doesn’t know why she phrases it that way, it’s true he did kill a demon that was about to attack, but she likely could have handled it herself.

“Merely finishing the job.” Vergil rests against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest with Yamato still in hand. 

“Well at least now you two have met, but I think it’s time we work out our next steps.” Dante speaks up but anything else he was going to say is shoved aside by the entrance of Nero, who strides in with purpose.

“Fresh wave of demon activity coming from Valis.” Nero stops short when he notices Vergil, he takes in the rest of the room becoming visibly uncomfortable at the sight of Ayla.

“Did you say Valis?” She asks.

“Yeah, new demons showing up every day. informants say they originate from that area. It’s strange, they travel here, but that town is 200 miles south.”

“I have also heard this. It was the original reason I came to visit, and part of the reason I got the lead on the missing woman.” She gestures to Ayla. “Obviously one mystery is solved.”

“That leaves another mystery.” Dante points out, “How are demons coming out of Valis? Is there a Hell gate there?” Dante looks to Vergil but before he can respond Ayla speaks up.

“If there is it might be hidden in the fae lands.”

“The what lands?” Dante asks, sure he heard correctly, but needing confirmation.

“Fae lands, faerie lands.” Ayla will have to explain, based on the blank looks she is receiving. Trish has entered the room from the kitchen clearly eager to hear more.

“There are three major fae courts surrounding Valis. The Night, the Day, and the Sea courts. They are protected by magic and would be an opportune location for demons to hide a portal. They would have to gain permission from the fae to be in their lands, but I wouldn’t put it past the Night court to allow it.” When Ayla is finished explaining she looks to Dante and Vergil in turn. Vergil appears unsurprised, Dante is clearly mulling something over in his head. 

“How do you know all of that?” Trish asks, it’s a leading question, but one that was bound to come up.

“I am...affiliated with the Night court.” Ayla rubs her palms over her thighs, looking down at the floorboards.

“And that means?” Dante asks.

“I am part human, but mostly fae.” Ayla’s hands now squeeze into fists, “My father is from the Night court. I am not a member of any court and have lived in a human household for most of my life.”

“Wow, a faerie. Figured you had to be something not human. I knew they existed, but I never saw any.” Dante wonders aloud, then a realization hits him. “Does that mean Nero’s one too?”

Nero is stiffly shuffling toward the door. Ayla stands and takes slow steps toward him. She reaches a hand out to him.

“Do you mind?” She takes his hand into her own, “You have very little of the fae in you, your demonic power takes over much of what you are.” She releases his hand and holds eye contact with him.

“I’ve always known, somehow, that I was different from everyone else.” Ayla smiles up at him.

Vergil breaks their conversation.

“Demonic forces have been unifying within Hell for quite some time. I had always planned to seek answers once I had regained my power and found a way out. If there is the possibility these gates are open and allowing demons to enter and exit Hell at will then I want to find out how.”

“We’ll go to Valis then. Ayla wants to get there I assume?” Dante has walked over to Nero and Ayla, examining her with a critical eye.

“I do. I was going to ask for help getting there. In return I will assist in whatever way I can to get you all the information you need. I have my own questions that need answers and it’s looking like I might have to ask within the courts.” Ayla ends her statement looking at Vergil who nods to her.

“I have a house about 50 miles north of Valis on the coast. I will give you the address.” At Vergil’s casual mention of a house Dante leans toward him with his eyebrows cocked.

“When did you have time to buy a house? Or make money to buy a house?”

“During my time as Mundus’ thrall I acquired the services of a useful demon. He’s clever, but weak. I had sent him to have a house built and collect specific items. I fully intended to break free of Mundus, that was before you came along.” Vergil’s mildly annoyed tone should be enough to ward of Dante’s questions.

“I thought you were brainwashed?”

“That’s a story for another time brother, for now we should be preparing to leave. I will go ahead.” He moves to Dante’s desk and writes out the address on a piece of paper. “Come after midnight.” Without so much as a ‘goodbye’ he makes his exit.

“Are we really going to your homicidal brother’s house?” Lady asks. Ayla’s eyebrows shoot up. Dante is still staring at the door.

“I think we should. We have no reason to trust him, but I would rather be close than far.” Dante turns to Trish. “Well Trish, let’s start getting ready.”

“You got it. Taking the bikes?”

“I’ll take mine...Lady?”

There’s a brief pause where Lady sighs, her eyes glancing to the heavens.

“Ya, I’ll take my car. Trish and Ayla can go with me. What about you Nero?”

“I have my own ride. Send me the address.” He moves to leave but turns around to Ayla, “I’ll...see you there.” Ayla only smiles in return.

Once the door is shut Dante and Trish spring into action, selecting weapons and shouting dibs on the shower. Lady lets Ayla know that they can stop by a clothing shop to pick up something better for her to wear. 

“Thank you Lady, really, I do appreciate everything. I don’t want you to think otherwise.”

“I understand it’s been a difficult day. Let’s go get you some clothes and food.” For the first time that day Lady’s lips widen into a genuine smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slumber party at Vergil's! 
> 
> Don't worry, Nero is a lost puppy now, but he will come into his own under his own terms.
> 
> I would like to think this isn't the slowest update schedule ever but it just might be.
> 
> Please let me know if something needs to be fixed, these chapters are not read by anyone before I post them. Someone let me know about a couple of corrections before and I just plum didn't do em, so sorry about that!


	6. Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone goes to Vergil's house and fun is had by all.

Lady pulls through an intersection on a street lined with shops and parking spaces. The drive has taken them to a nicer part of town, where the street lamps are old-english style and lights decorate the gated trees. They pull into a spot in front of a warmly lit boutique.

“I like this place. They’ll make anything and sell some good quality stuff.” Lady says as they step up to the shop.

“Looks great.” Ayla examines a dress hanging in the front window before heading in.

The shop attendant greets them both and welcomes Lady back in the store. While Lady and the attendant chat Ayla continues to browse. She settles on a light colored sleeveless dress. The attendant comes over to assist her.

“Oh that will look gorgeous on you, would you like to find some shoes or a jacket to match?” Her smile is genuine, it puts Ayla at ease.

“That would be great, what is your name?”

“It’s Stephanie! And yours?” She smiles wide.

“Ayla.”

Ayla? That’s a pretty name. Come over here I have something in mind.” Stephanie winks and turns on her heel. She heads to a rack of thin knit sweaters. “What color do you like?”

“Hmmm, I like this.” Ayla points to a dark navy one. Stephanie pulls it off of it’s hanger.

“Go ahead and put these on, I will find you a couple pairs of shoes to try. Size...8?”

“Wow, exactly.” Ayla steps into a dressing room then Stephanie leaves with another wink. Ayla is pleased with the style and fit of the dress, it’s shorter than she thought, but she can manage. She will have to pick up some undergarments though. She leaves the dressing room to find two pairs of shoes held up to her. Silver heels and multi-color jeweled sandals.

“So what do you think?” Stephanie beams at her.

“I love the sandals, the blue is perfect.” Ayla takes them and slips them on, Stephanie is a fashion wizard.

“Lookin’ good.” Lady steps up, “Is that what you want?”

“Sure, but I could use some underwear.” Ayla glances around, spotting a table in the corner covered in various lace sets. Stephanie guides her over and mentions that a light cream color would work best with the light dress. Ayla agrees. “You are great at this.”

“Oh I love it!”

Ayla makes eye contact with Stephanie, her lips slightly curved in pleasure.

“You wouldn’t mind if I took these would you, Stephanie?” Ayla’s voice is soft and soothing, she nods slowly while speaking the words. Stephanie nods along with her, staring into her eyes.

“Oh! Of course, have whatever you like, you would look amazing in anything.” She moves her hands outward, indicating all of the contents of the store.

“I am sure you will sell more than enough to make up for it.” Ayla’s smile reaches her eyes as she takes the suggested bra and panty set. She glances to Lady who is watching from near the register as she walks to the back of the store.

Once she is back in the dressing room she changes into her borrowed clothes then hands her purchase to Stephanie. The items are bagged and handed to Ayla. When Lady attempts to give her bank card over she is turned down.

“This is my treat! Thank you for being awesome customers.”

Lady frowns but thanks Stephanie for her help. They get back in her SUV and drive away. The apartment is close by so the trip is short. Lady squeezes the steering wheel and occasionally glances to Ayla, who watches the pedestrians walk into restaurants and cafes.

“This is it.” Lady pulls into another parking space on the road, this one in front of a building containing several apartments. The old style brick building is well maintained and even has an updated security system. “I usually would park underground, but we won’t be here long.”

“This looks like a nice place.” Ayla’s eyes trail around the hall and staircase they climb to the second floor. 

“It’s pretty great, I’ve lived here for a while now.” Lady unlocks her apartment with her key and disarms the alarm. “Make yourself comfortable.”

In stark contrast to Dante’s shop Lady’s apartment is clean and rather normal. Ayla half expected the walls to be covered in demon trophies and weapons, needless to say the normal decor is a welcome change. Lady makes her way into the kitchen to grab some glasses of water. 

“How does pasta sound for dinner? It looks like that’s about all I have to make.” She heads to the living room where Ayla is seated on the couch. 

“Sounds good to me.” She takes a glass as Lady sits across from her.

“What did you tell Stephanie?” Lady’s tone is inquisitive, but wary, suspicious even. Ayla’s eyes widen slightly, she had not thought about how Lady would feel about her manipulating the shop attendant.

“I told her how well she is doing, and suggested she let me take the clothing. She accepted. In return the store will do more than enough in sales to make up for it. Tenfold.” Alya takes a drink of water.

“So is that your power?” Lady scoffs, “If only I could have something like that. Do you always make up for it?”

“It’s part of what I can do. I am not sure I understand what you mean though. If I have something done for me, or if I request something from someone, I will return the favor in greater amount.” 

“Interesting. I don’t really mind you doing that. I like that store, I want to see them do well. But, it’s strange, I could have just paid.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll be more considerate.” Ayla drops eye contact to stare at Lady’s glass.

“It’s okay. I get it. You didn’t pay in money but the store will end up better in the long run.”

“Thank you for trusting me.” Ayla smiles, “Would you mind if I take a shower?”

Lady slaps her thighs and rises.

“I was just about to ask if you want to shower while I make food and get ready to leave.”

Lady leads Ayla to her bathroom and pulls out a couple of extra towels. Ayla is welcome to use anything she wants. When the door is shut Ayla closes her eyes. Finally alone, she allows her face to fall into an exhausted blank expression. She sets down the boutique bag, lays out the towels and turns the shower on. She is under the water reveling in the warmth but before long she lowers herself to her knees and cries. 

The water is still warm by the time she stands. She feels better, lighter even. Knowing she is on her way home is a comfort. She would try to call ahead but she fears no one will answer. She would rather see it for herself. 

When she emerges from the bathroom she can smell cooking bread and pasta. Lady is chopping a cucumber for salad when Ayla approaches her in the kitchen.

“Anything I can help with?” Ayla offers.

“Oh hey, nope, everything’s pretty much done!” She tosses the cucumber slices into a salad bowl and hands it to Ayla. “Go ahead and put this on the table.”

Ayla finds the small kitchen table and sets down the bowl. Lady follows with a plate of bread then returns to the kitchen. 

“I’m afraid all I have to drink is water.” 

“That’s fine.” Ayla collects their water glasses from the sitting area and takes a spot at the table. 

Once they are both seated with plates full of spaghetti, bread, and salad Alya asks what their plan is.

“Well I want to take a shower myself. While you were in there I got my go-bag ready and made sure my guns are good to go. So there isn’t much left to do before we get out of here.” She takes a bite, “I do want to stop for coffee before we leave, I haven’t slept in a while. Our trip will take a few hours, we’ll arrive just after midnight if we leave soon.” Lady leaves off a comment about how she might not be able to sleep there with Vergil around anyway.

“Okay, sounds good. Thanks for the food.” 

They finish their meals and Ayla helps put the leftovers away. She offers to wash dishes while Lady showers, partially out of gratitude and partially out of eagerness to get going. Once all is said and done they leave the apartment and load up Lady’s SUV. They make a quick trip to the coffee shop across the street and then head out to pick up Trish.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Ladies.” Trish says as she opens the back door, having thrown her bag and weapons into the modified rear compartment.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Off to Vergil’s likely ill-gotten house.” Lady floors it, racing through the empty streets of the industrial part of town and onto the main highway.

“This is bizarre.” Ayla says facing the passenger window.

“What is? Your time skip? Or is it the fact that you are in a car with people you don’t know to go have a slumber party at a demon’s house?” Lady asks.

“Or maybe it’s Dante, he can leave that kind of impression.” Trish interjects from the back.

Ayla turns around to smirk at her.

“All of the above.” She sighs, “I don’t know how I should feel about it all.”

“I usually just keep going, try not to think about it. It might not be the healthiest way to do it though.” Lady keeps her eyes on the road and hits a button on the steering wheel that sets the cruise control. “Trish, tunes! Give use something at least 10 years old.” She winks at Ayla.

“On it!”  
\--------------------------------------------------

The trip goes by quickly. Not too long after playing some of her favorite songs Ayla asks about what she has missed over the last ten years. She is somewhat excited to find new music and hear important news. Trish plays several popular songs and explains the new culture of internet memes to Ayla, who knew what they were before but now they seem to be part of everyday life. After viewing several of the funnier news events and important updates they are nearly to their destination. The light conversation has helped keep it out of everyone’s minds, but now they are leaving the highway to find Vergil’s secluded home.

“Thank you for helping me and being so kind even though you don’t know me.” Ayla’s gratefulness bring tears to her eyes again. She stops them quickly, blaming her overwhelmed and tired state for being overly emotional.

“Listen, anyone tied up in all of the bullshit you are needs all the help they can get. I admit we aren’t too open and accepting, but I get the feeling you fit right in with us. Birds of a feather, you know.” Lady explains.

“So, if you are a faerie, what can you do? Are you magic?” Trish has been curious for a while and it shows.

“I am, I guess. I can use magic. I don’t usually call it that, but that’s what it is I suppose.” Ayla considers the questions thoughtfully. “I don’t usually use it to attack people, the incident at the Order was...unusual.”

“Well you certainly fucked shit up!” Lady looks over to Ayla and clarifies, “I mean, you put up a good fight. That place was destroyed, and we read that you were not easily taken down.”

“I was pretty mad, I still am! But, now it doesn’t make sense to be.” Ayla’s sentence trails off having realized that her heightened emotions might also still be left over from ten years ago.

“We will be there in 10 minutes. Vergil’s home is not too far from Valis, are there fae lands near here?” Lady questions.

“They do not extend this far. Maybe the ocean fae can be found here, but likely not. The fae are very secretive, but Valis is the largest gathering of fae in this part of the world. They live among humans, some are aware of the fae and some are not. The ones who are aware know well enough to not incite the fae to take notice of them.”

“Would that be a bad thing?”

“Generally, yes. The fae do not like humans very much, though they have mutually beneficial relationships. The Night court will allow humans to go to their parties, but that never ends well for the human.”

“So, stay away from faeries. Got it.” 

Lady and Trish ask a couple more questions, but Ayla’s answers are vague at best. By the time they have reached Vergil’s home they are no more knowledgeable about the fae. Lady’s GPS guides them to a long dirt road through a forested area dominated by coniferous trees. The lights from the house can be seen between the trunks. As they pull up Ayla recognizes the motorcycle parked in front from Dante’s shop. There is no other vehicle.

The house itself is fairly large. It has two stories and several windows which, while illuminated, give them an idea of what it might look like in the daylight.

“How the Hell did Vergil have this built out here?” Lady asks.

“For a man that’s been trapped in Hell he sure can get things done.” Trish goes around to the back of the SUV and pulls out her and Lady’s bags.

Ayla makes her way to the front porch and approaches the door. She stops to listen to the voices on the other side. She can tell one is Vergil and assumes the other is Dante, which is confirmed when the front door slams open to reveal Dante who has his eyebrows drawn together in question.

“Did you want to come in?”

“Of course I do, I don’t barge in on other people’s conversations.”

“No, you would rather sneakily listen in, huh?” Dante’s quirked lips tell her he is messing around, but Ayla looks scandalized. She stops herself before she responds then narrows her eyes.

“I’m not taking the bait.” 

Dante only laughs as Trish and Lady enter the house.

“She already knows how to handle Dante, she’s a keeper.” Trish walks up to her and puts an arm around her shoulders. “You let us know if you want backup.”

Vergil watches as Dante assists Lady and Trish. Ayla approaches him, wary of his stance, he looks pissed off.

“This is a beautiful home.” Ayla says as she takes in the living room and adjacent kitchen. All of the furniture looks comfortable and functional. The dark wood and leather is accented with shades of grey and dark blue. It all looks incredibly expensive.

“My assistant did everything.” He also looks around, taking in some more details. “Today is my first time seeing it.”

Dante approaches again, eyes sizing up Ayla and Vergil, comparing and contrasting.

“There are plenty of rooms, you all can pick one.” Vergil turns into the hall and enters a room with a double-door entrance.

“Don’t worry about how angry he looks.” Dante tells Ayla, “If he wanted you dead you already would be.”

“That’s ominous.” Ayla is not too worried about him. He had her alone in the courtyard earlier and the only thing he did was protect her from another demon. Aside from him being obviously unused to social interaction, she can’t find a reason to dislike him.

“Nice outfit by the way.” Dante waves his hand in a sweeping motion in front of her and winks.

“Do you WANT to sleep outside?” Lady slaps his shoulder then turns to Ayla. “What room would you like?”

“I think I will take one down here.” Ayla points down the hall the Vergil went to.

“Me too.”

They both go to explore. They pass a set of double doors; both closed. There are two bedrooms and a bathroom on the bottom floor. The windows all look out onto the forested area surrounding the home. Though the moon is near full, it is partially obscured by low clouds. Once everyone has selected a room they meet back in the living room.

“Where is Nero?” Trish asks as she flops down onto the large L-shaped sectional.

“He went on out to scout around.” Dante leans up against a wall, crossing his legs.

Vergil emerges from the double door room.

“What are your plans?” He looks at Ayla, indicating the question is for her.

“My only plan is to go home and see if anyone I know is still there.” Her expression is guarded, Vergil’s cold demeanor and seemingly all-seeing gaze give her the chills. She can feel the bags under her eyes, she must have aged a hundred years over the course of the day.

“What about the fae lands? I have been researching, but it looks like we won’t be able to enter them without help.”

“I need to establish contact, I should be able to move freely into the Night court if I am careful. But I have to warn you, it may take some time before I am able to let any of you in.” Ayla looks at Lady. “I am not sure you should go to the Night court when the time comes, it’s dangerous for humans.”

“You mentioned that before. What exactly do you mean?” Lady is genuinely curious, her regular bravado about being able to defend herself is replaced in this moment.

“As a human you have no way of warding off enchantment or faerie tricks.” Ayla pauses to look at the demon occupants of the room. “Demons are at least able to protect themselves from simple magic, and if they are smart they can avoid being tricked.”

“Is that why you were able to do that thing to Stephanie?” 

“What thing?” Dante asks. 

“The way I did that was by already knowing she would respond well to it. She may have even thought to give me the clothes for free or at a discount before I enchanted her.” Ayla notes that Vergil his glaring holes into the floor at this point. “I could have forced her to give me the clothes, used brute magical strength. That was not necessary, she gave me what I wanted quite easily. In return for this I enchanted her wares, she will sell every last item in the store, and use every fabric and thread in her stock.”

“So the bad faeries, they could just make humans do whatever they want them to.” Dante rubs at the scruff on his chin as he thinks out loud.

“It’s never as simple as that, but yes, if Lady were to go into the Night court she is at risk. The reason I am being vague when answering most of your questions is because the less you know the better off you will be.”

“Some of the books I had requested be brought to my library concern the fae courts. They are older, but much of the information should still be useful.” Vergil sounds like he may talking to himself.

“How have you been collecting a library’s worth of books from Hell?” Dante asks.

“I have my ways.”

“Right...Trish and I are going to head out for now. Lady?” 

“You two go ahead, this mere human needs some sleep.” Her eyes flick to Vergil, who has turned around to go into the kitchen, “If I can get any.”

He nods.

“Let’s go.” Dante and Trish sweep out the front door, grabbing their weapons on the way out.

Ayla bids lady goodnight, goes into her room, and falls onto the bed. Deep sleep does not come easily, if anything she falls into a light slumber. 

An unknown amount of time later she is woken by voices in the house. From the window she can see that the sky has cleared and moon has risen high.

Trish and Dante have returned and are speaking with Vergil in the living room. She slept with her dress still on. Checking that she is at least decent she treads softly into the living room.

“They would have some kind of demonic leadership, a court wouldn’t have sent them.” Vergil’s head whips around to Ayla as he speaks. She is awake and alert instantly.

“What is it?” 

“We ran into several demons not to far down the coast from here.” Trish explains, “When I questioned them one of them told me that ‘the court’ sent them.”

“That’s strange. More than strange, it’s unheard of. The demon could have been lying, the fae usually want nothing to do with magic beings that can lie.” Ayla steps aside to allow Lady to zombie shuffle past her into the living room and onto the couch. “Though, I wouldn’t put it past my father to be making deals with them.”

At this Lady perks up.

“What do you mean ‘your father’?”

Her hands squeeze into fists as she realizes she has withheld some important information.

“My father…” She swallows, staring at the floor. “...is Andor, the King of the Night. He might be working with the demons.”

Ayla continues to stare at the floor to avoid any accusatory looks. Vergil’s laser focus on her increases to an intensity she can feel. The tension is broken by Dante; unable to contain his disbelieving excitement.

“Whoa, so you’re a real faerie princess. Isn’t that something?” He turns to Trish and Lady, both of which are mulling over the implications of this new information.

“I am not recognized as a princess.” Ayla quickly corrects Dante. “And I am not fully recognized as a member of the Night court. The fae know who I am for the most part, but I have no power over them. In fact, I don’t talk to my father, we have not been close. I was raised in a human home by a woman who is not my biological mother.”

“Sounds complicated.” Lady’s voice belies her tiredness, but her eyes are kind.

“It is. Though I do show some traits of being associated with the Night court.” Her hands wave back behind her shoulders, “My wings are black.”

Four pairs of eyes raise up behind her then back to her face; displaying varied degrees of confusion.

“I’ll show you.” She inhales and lets her eyes close for a moment, concentrating on revealing her other form. Shadow lifts from her skin and travels along her body. Darkness forms into arcing wings behind her. They are translucent but the fibrous material holding them together is black. Their appearance is not unlike a set of dragonfly wings, only instead of being rounded, her wings taper into points. Other than her irises growing in size and a slight darkening to her hair there are few changes to the rest of her physical appearance. 

She turns to the side to give her audience a better view of the wings. She looks at a wing over her shoulder, not sure if they have appeared as the blank stares she is receiving give no indication.

“Those are badass.” Trish’s statement is assumed to be a compliment, Ayla gives her a wicked smile and lets the wings flutter.

“Can you fly with those?” Dante asks while stepping forward to give them a closer look upon their iridescent quality.

“More like glide. Unless I use a significant amount of power the wings aren’t necessarily for flight.” 

She smiles as Lady and Trish follow Dante’s lead and approach to examine the new appendages. Ayla looks over to Vergil. He might be staring in her direction, but he seems to be looking through her at a painting on the opposite side of the room. Her gaze gains his attention, she draws her eyebrows together in silent questioning.

“We should stay in this area a while longer. I need to do more research and we need to find out more about the demons.” Vergil says. It does not necessarily answer Ayla but at least he is talking.

“What are you researching?” She asks hoping he will explain more about where he is getting his information. Vergil tilts his chin in the direction of the hall.

“You can see for yourself.” 

Ayla allows her wings to dissipate into shadow once more and makes her way over to the library entrance. The door is already wide open so she walks straight in.

She stops in her tracks. The whole room is lined with books from floor to ceiling. Rounding the end of a bookcase that acts as a wall reveals the entirety of the collection. One window with a plush recliner and low table consumes a large part of a wall. Opposite is a large desk lit with a single lamp. Several books are stacked on it, a few are open to pages with maps or hand-written script. She recognizes a couple old fae histories, others are written in a language she cannot understand. 

She turns around to find Vergil watching her from the end of the bookcase. She notices for the first time that he is holding the ridiculously large katana she saw him wielding earlier. Her brows crease at him again. Had he been holding that earlier?

“This is rather impressive. Those two books, the fae law and history ones, they are good to read. They might be a little outdated, but the foundational concepts don’t change over time.”

“Seriously, this place is insane. Just, how?” Dante says from close behind Vergil while taking in the myriad books.

“I believe I told you.” Vergil’s barely contained annoyance shows through in the strained set of his jaw.

“Yeah, yeah, you have your ways. One of these days you are going to have to start talking” 

Vergil and Dante continue their low-key argument as Ayla peruses more of the books. She catches Lady walking by the library door back to her room and waves a second goodnight. One section of the library catches her interest. The books are all about astronomy ranging from old to new. One that instantly catches her eye is Uranometria. She pulls the book from the shelf and opens it. It’s incredibly rare, very few were printed. 

“Yeah, well, I’m going to go catch some Zs before the sun comes up again.” Dante waves off Vergil’s previous statement

“Goodnight.” Ayla calls after him, earning her a quick smile. She approaches Vergil. “So different yet so much the same.” She meets his eyes, his stone expression remains in place.

“There is much you do not know.” 

“This book is incredibly rare. I have my own copy.” She holds the book up, showing him the hand drawn Draco constellation, “This had better not be my copy.”

“I am not the one who obtained it.” 

He recovers quickly from his confusion at the abrupt change in topic, she knows when she’s hit a dead end. He turns from her then, his way of saying that the conversation is over. Her gaze lingers on him. She is too exhausted to taunt him, but too lonely to leave. She sets the book back in place takes a seat at the window, folding her legs under herself.

They stay like this in silence; him looking over the old books as she stares out the window. This silence is comfortable; it’s obvious he is not talkative by nature. It adds to the mystique of the man the Order used to create their own version of a savior. He has been used by more than the Order from what she understands. He was a slave to Mundus while she slept, made into a weapon. Power has been his curse. Her fate had been better.

As time passes Vergil moves from standing to sitting at the desk. Ayla has gotten more comfortable in the large char by hanging her legs over one arm. She falls asleep to the view of the stars. 

When she wakes Vergil is gone, the lamp is turned off and the throw that had been hanging from the back of the char is slung over her legs. 

It’s very late; or very early. The moon has descended, it’s gentle illumination barely reaches through the trees. The longing to be out in nature is ever present for the fae. Even humans feel it sometimes. Unable to resist Ayla rises and makes her way through the house.

She is out the front door as silent as she is able and moves through the trees on barely a whisper. She left the house behind on a whim to explore in the dead of night. It is not dangerous here, she can feel it. 

The sound of gentle running water can be heard from the small clearing she has stopped in. From this spot she looks to the sky once more. The stars are brighter now, the bands of the Milky Way are clear against the dark backdrop of the universe. Intense longing strikes her in this moment, the need for a connection. Despair clings to her. The forest seems less alive compared to the distant bright spots.

Reaching within herself she draws together some of her power. The darkness around her is enveloped in a halo of light. It quickly dims to a soft blue glow. A fragment of magic is suspended in front of her eyes. It’s a star. Like the ones in the sky above it is small and dim. She can adjust the brightness, but the color remains the same. It is a pale blue dot in the otherwise dim clearing. 

A smile reaches her eyes as her hand reaches out toward the tiny star. It’s warm. Instead of her hand passing through it she cups the star. It floats weightlessly. She now closes her eyes in concentration. If she can make one then she can make more. Even behind her eyelids there is increasing light.

When she opens her eyes again the clearing is populated by more stars. Some brighter than others. Some with a red or blue hue. A few are yellow or violet. Her mouth opens in amazement. The sky is cold at night but here in the clearing her magic radiates the warmth of the sun. She has seen this before. Stars floating by, warming her skin in otherwise cold darkness.

Slowly the stars begin to blink out until the only one left is her original pale blue sphere of light. Hardly any of her energy has been used. She feels lighter and free, as if she could dance the rest of the night away in her meadow of magic stars. She lets out a laugh, giddy with happiness. This has given her everything she needed. All the world has drifted away, Vergil, Nero, the Fae, and her lost time. She is not the unwilling mother to a demon’s child here. She is not an outcast mixed-breed. 

She is a burning universe with endless potential.

\----------------------------------------

The subtle glow of dawn begins to overtake the dimmest stars. Ayla stands from her seated position on a large grey boulder centered in the clearing. The night is over and as dawn approaches Ayla feels neither relief nor sadness. The walk back to the house is longer than she remembers, the exited energy of earlier is now replaced with all consuming exhaustion. 

She opens and closes the door with care, not wanting to disturb the other occupants of the house. She is greeted with Vergil’s icy glare. Ayla sighs, her shoulders droop, she wants nothing more than to go to sleep.

“What is it?”

“Where did you go?” Vergil’s voice matches his cold gaze.

“I went for some air. The sky was clear, good for thinking.” She licks her lips. “I did not talk to anyone.”

Vergil’s eyes drop from her face to rest on her bare feet.

“Why do you even care?” She asks.

“I don’t. Do what you want.” He strides up the stairs to where she assumes his own bedroom is located.

Ayla releases a huff of air. He sets her on edge more than anyone she has ever met. She gets not even two steps farther when the sound of an approaching motorcycle stops her. Out of courtesy, she assumes, the driver cuts the engine to walk to bike up to the house. She can hear the footsteps approaching. 

Nero emerges from the front doorway, he is attempting to be quiet but his boots still make dull thudding sounds as he walks. Ayla does not attempt to make her presence known, nervousness paired with tiredness has slowed her ability to reason.

“You know, people usually say hello when someone enters a house.” Nero says to her as he pulls a boot off.

“I’m sorry. It’s very late, or early, I need more sleep.” She steps forward to greet him but neither of them speak. Nero looks anywhere but at her, choosing to stand in the entryway and shift his weight from side to side. Ayla shakes herself mentally, realizing she had been staring.

“I know. It’s a strange situation.” She attempts to sooth his nerves, “I’m glad to see you are well.”

“Uh…” Nero fights to find something to tell her. Ayla takes pity on him.

“It’s okay, go ahead and sleep. We both need it.” 

“Yeah, thanks. ‘Night.”

They part ways. Ayla shuts the curtains against the first rays of sunlight and finally falls into a deep slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOH. Character development. 
> 
> IDK what I'm doin'.


	7. This World is Changing, But I am Still the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil remains a source of contention between Dante and Lady. Ayla finally makes it back to her hometown, but will she find her mother at her home?

Raised voices from a heated discussion rouse Ayla from the sleep of the dead. She squints against the light penetrating through the thin cream colored curtains. The noonday sun is bright; unimpeded by clouds or fog. The soft colors of the room are soothing and the calling of birds would lull her back into rest were it not for the near shouting coming from the living room. 

She is trying to listen to the conversation but is having trouble understanding the voice that is clearly Lady’s. She looks down at herself, the dress is rumpled but surprisingly clean considering her romp in the forest. Throwing on the navy sweater she makes her way to the hall with cat-like tread.

Dante has taken up a position between Vergil and Lady, the latter of which is glaring and spitting venom. 

“Hey now, take it easy.” Dante pushes his palms down toward the ground in a slow manner, “It was nearly 20 years ago, things are different now. Vergil hasn’t even impaled me on a sword once...yet.”

“He’s still an asshole. Time doesn’t erase all of the things he’s done. The people he’s killed.” Lady strides closer to Dante, who has now become the target of her ire. “He won’t even answer simple questions!”

Ayla watches as Trish, seated on a kitchen barstool, licks her thumb and turns a page of her magazine. Her attention lands on Vergil next, who has noticed her quiet entrance. The dark circles under his eyes have lessened marginally but he still looks like he could sleep for the next century. Ayla raises an eyebrow at him and she stays off to the side while Dante and Lady continue their argument.

She tries to listen in and form her own opinion, but the information she has about Dante’s estranged brother has some holes in it. If he really is responsible for killing innocent people, then perhaps she should keep a better guard up.

“I don’t care what the two of you decide.” Vergil breaks up the argument likely to save his own sanity. “Presently our goals align. I have told Dante that I have no ill intent, my interests lie with the demons and with Hell.”

“Alright, I can accept that maybe things can be different. But if you step a single foot out of line you’re finished. No coming back.” Lady levels her eyes at Vergil, over-enunciating every syllable.

“I understand.” Vergil gives a deliberate nod, glancing to the stairs then to Ayla.

She had not noticed that Nero has taken a seat at the top step to watch the commotion. With the argument settled for now he stands to return to his room. She steps further into the living room and is greeted with a couple of good mornings.

“Mornin’.” Her voice is low and the first word is thick on her tongue. She observes the position of the sun through the living room window, “If it is still morning. When do we plan on moving on to Valis?” 

Vergil steps toward her, around Dante and Lady, to speak directly to her.

“I said before that we should stay here longer, but some of the information I gathered indicates we should move into the fae lands.”

“I admit I am anxious to return, waiting is becoming unbearable.” Ayla looks over to Dante when he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I think we should stay to scout more. Trish and I didn’t get much of that done last night.” He turns to face Vergil fully, his twin does the same.

“You are welcome to stay here. How much longer do you need?” Vergil speaks cordially to Dante and is remarkably calm considering the choice words that were just said about him.

While the brothers talk Ayla takes the opportunity to examine them side-by-side. They are very similar, definitely siblings, and they do look like twins if you squint hard enough. Their different backgrounds may contribute to some subtle differences. Vergil prefers his hair out of his face, which gives him a more sinister and sever appearance. Everything down to their attitude and choice of clothing highlight major differences in personality.

Dante’s large red coat is ostentatious, whereas the darker royal blue coat Vergil is wearing would blend in better out on the street. Either way they both draw attention to themselves. Speaking of Vergil’s coat, Ayla remembers his outfit from yesterday being surprisingly mundane. Now, in his dark boots, black pants and oversized coat he looks more the part of a suave and handsome demon. Ayla leans to her right to get a view of what shirt he is wearing. It’s the same icy blue color as the button-up from before, but this one looks like heavy kevlar material. It’s practically molded to his body. She is pulled from her examination by him directing a question at her.

“Exactly how much do you know about the fae land borders?” He must have caught her staring, she brings her wide-eyed gaze back to his face.

“I know them well, or at least I did 10 years ago. I don’t think they should be much different. The Night King’s lands are bordered by a stream that is inhabited by a watcher. The watcher knows who enters if they touch the banks or waters of the stream.”

“You said you will be able to get us in.”

“I said I might.” Ayla corrects him, not one to make false promises. “Since I have been gone there is a chance everything has changed, especially with demons around. As I said before I will need some time to gather information and establish connections with my old friends again.”

“Start working on that, I will meet you in the city at noon two days from now. Where is a good place?”

Ayla thinks for a moment to come up with a landmark that would not have changed in the last decade.

“In the town hall plaza there is a statue in the middle of the courtyard.”

Vergil nods then turns to Dante.

“Do what you like, I will be moving closer to Valis. I can recognize the signs of the fae lands so I can avoid them. If you go there stay in the city proper and on main roads.” 

“You got it, bro. Lady, you feel up to takin’ the faerie princess home?” Dante’s ability to move on from negative energy is inspiring. Lady looks at the two brothers in turn before responding.

“I think that’s a good idea. Ayla, you ready to go?”

“I think so, just need my shoes. We can go to my home, hopefully my mother still lives there.”

“Sounds good, but I’m going to need coffee on the way.” Lady pinches the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut.

“Not a problem, I know just the place when we get closer...maybe. If it’s still there.”

Lady, Ayla, and Trish depart the room to get ready for the day. The brothers spare a moment to look over one another.

“You will be able to get in contact with me through Ayla or Lady, since they will be in Valis.” Vergil says then makes to go up the stairs but Dante reaches out an arm to stop him.

“We are going to have to have a talk at some point.” Dante says.

Vergil only brushes past.

\----------------------------------------------

The car ride to Valis takes less than an hour. With ten minutes to go Lady opens up to Ayla about her anger with Vergil.

“Listen. You need to know some things about Vergil. Dante is too lenient about this, but his brother has a history of...poor decision making.”

“I was actually curious about that. You mentioned people he’s killed people and hinted at other things. What did he do 20 years ago?”

Lady sighs.

“It’s complicated. But I will try to summarize it for you.”

“Okay.”

“When they were children around eight years old they were separated after a demon attack that killed their mother.” Lady has to try to sum up a decades long and incredibly complex story, so she highlights the important parts and glosses over anything that she is not too sure about. “They had almost no contact for the next ten years. Vergil shows up with a lust for power so great that he teamed up with a human man, my father, to raise a literal Hell tower. In the process he destroys the suburbs of an entire city. Granted there had been waves of demon attacks that had made most of the residents flee the area, but many innocent people lost their lives.”

“I have seen the tower, it was huge news, I remember that.” Ayla thinks back on it, the dark tower and the events surrounding it had been on the news stations for weeks. She had no idea who the people involved were.

“Dante went to confront Vergil, who decided the best course of action was to stab Dante with his own sword to awaken his demon side. I had arrived at the tower to do whatever I could to stop my father from opening the gate to Hell, believing that he was being used and manipulated by Vergil.” Lady paused as her GPS indicated they would be exiting the highway soon.

“Long story short, my father had been using Vergil’s birthright to gain Sparda’s power for himself. In the end the Hell gate was opened then Vergil and Dante fought my father together and destroyed him. But it wasn’t over. Vergil was still determined to finish what he had started. Dante refused to help him gain power and they fought each other. In the end Dante chose to stay in the human realm and Vergil went into Hell.”

“I see.” Ayla thought about the story and how tragedy must have shaped all of their lives. “I understand why you would be angry with Vergil and at Dante for defending him. I might not know the whole story, maybe Vergil does not deserve any opportunity for redemption, but I can understand that someone might be driven to do something like that.”

“There’s more to that sad story, but you can learn of it another time, we’re entering Valis.”

Ayla directs Lady to turn off of the main highway and follow the streets to a shopping center not too far away from her home. All the while she is taking in the differences in the buildings as they drive past. Ten years had made little difference, there were several new stores and some renovations had been made to existing buildings. On a distant hill she spots a neighborhood of new homes.

The cafe Ayla remembers is still open; it has a different name and she doesn’t recognize anyone behind the counter. Lady orders the largest frappuccino they have, Ayla refuses her offer to buy her something. Her anxiety has banished her appetite.

“This is incredibly unsettling.” Ayla mentions as they get back into the car. “Everything looks the same for the most part, but it feels different. I don’t know... maybe it’s just because I know I missed so much.”

“I can’t say I relate, but I understand. I’m hoping you can get some answers and acclimate to the change. Do you think you are ready to go to the house?” 

“I think so, might as well get to it.”

The house is almost exactly the same as the day she left. The plants have grown tall and climbing vines spread up to the second story windows covering the light creamy yellow of the painted slats of house siding. It looks well maintained, the white trim is freshly painted and the driveway is clear of stains and debris. Lady pulls through the open gate in front of the house. A black Maserati SUV is parked in front of the closed garage door.

Ayla’s stomach drops. They never had a car like that.

Lady asks her a question. Instead of answering Ayla opens the passenger door and exits, staring trance-like at the burgundy front door. It’s new, having replaced the old white door. A clang coming from the side of the house startles Ayla, whoever lives there is home and they are out in their yard. Her mother liked to spend most of her days out in the garden before going to work at her part-time bookstore job. It seems natural that she should expect her to be there.

Heart racing and fingers clenched Ayla approaches the corner of the house. Footsteps in the grass and gravel can be heard approaching. When she rounds the corner she is face to face with the sunkissed countenance of an older woman with graying hair and smile lines etched into her face. The woman drops her gardening gloves to the ground but stays in place with a questioning scowl replacing her inquisitive expression.

“Mom?” Ayla asks to be sure, it must be the woman who raised her, but she aged a decade in what was essentially a long weekend from her perspective. The woman takes a few tentative steps forward.

“Ayla…” She reaches out, hesitating before touching her. “It can’t be you.”

Tears fall down Ayla’s cheeks. She must have caused so much worry and pain.

“No, mom, it’s me.” She breaks down with a sob. “I’m so sorry.”

Her mother touches the side of her face as if she had dreamed this many times before only to wake to an empty home.

“There’s no need to be sorry.” Her arms gently embrace her daughter and pull them together. “I can’t believe it, where did you go? How are you here?”

They both pull back enough to see the flood of tears running down each others cheeks. Ayla buries her face in her mother’s neck, unable to answer in her current state. They cry in each other’s arms, Ayla silently apologizing while her mother tells her how happy she is to see her.

“Oh my child, are you really alive?”

“I am mom, I really am.” Ayla steps back from her, “It’s a long story, but I was found by some kind people. One of them brought me here.” She points toward the front of the house and they walk around the corner together. 

Lady is leaning against her Land Rover and pretending that the pavement is infinitely interesting when the two emerge. Ayla’s mother walks up to her to greet her.

“I hear you helped my daughter, thank you so much. I am so grateful to you for bringing her to me. Please, what is your name?”

“My name is Lady, and you don’t have to thank me.”

“Oh, but I do! You have no idea how hard these last years have been without her having given up all hope. In fact I still am having trouble believing this.” She looks back to Ayla and takes her hands in her own. “OH! Where are my manners? My name is Marta.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lady smiles but it is strained. Ayla can understand that most people are not equipped to handle such an emotional situation.

“Mom why don’t we go inside? Lady you are welcome to come in if you would like.”

“I think I am going to take off for a couple of hours, I will come back here, take your time catching up.” She departs after another bout of gratitude from Marta.

\-----------------------------------------

Once inside both mother and daughter have tears welling in their eyes as they look over one another again. Just inside the foyer is an intimate family room with a large plush couch and a coffee table with candles and books stacked on it. Ayla recognizes the table, but the large couch is new. Her eyes fly around the room noting the subtle differences in objects and decor. 

“Gosh, the house probably hasn’t changed too much. I did some remodeling in the kitchen and painted some, but you know I am content with how things are.” Marta talks as she guides Ayla to sit. “Now, I want to know what happened. If you feel comfortable telling me right now that is. I know you had run into trouble long before you disappeared and I was afraid it had come back to haunt you. But I never once gave up on you, you had to be alive.”

She held Ayla’s hand as she spoke running her thumb over delicate fingers.

“I don’t know where to start…” Ayla looks down at their hands. Her mother’s has more wrinkles and age spots than she remembers, it’s also very thin, in fact she looks thin all over.

“It’s okay, take your time, I will try not to bombard you with questions. But there is so much I want to ask. Why don’t you think about it for a moment, I will go grab some water.” Marta gives Ayla’s hand a gentle squeeze before she rises to enter the kitchen.

Ayla reaches for the tissue box on the low table and blows her nose. The tears have subsided but she feels raw and disjointed. Could she possibly tell her mother about how she left to go on a suicide mission of revenge? She decides to tell how she was woken from her ten year sleep and the events that transpired between then and now.

“I bet you are wondering why I haven’t aged a day.” Ayla accepts a glass from Marta. “I have been asleep in stasis for the last ten years. The organization I had run into before, I went back to them for...information.”

“Actually, I hadn't even noticed, but yes, you haven’t aged. You look the same as the day you left.” Marta seats herself close to Ayla and looks over her face. “I hope you aren’t a dream.”

“I’m not. There is so much I want to tell you, but I don’t know how to say it all.” She wrings her hands together until her mother’s gentle grip stills her.

“You have time. As much as I want to know everything, I don’t want you to force yourself to talk. You must be so lost, give yourself time.”

Ayla thinks of everything from how she found out about Nero to her desire to seek revenge. She doesn’t think she will ever be able to admit to Marta that she never expected to return. Perhaps it is a gift that instead of death she only lost ten years.

“Well, why don’t I update you on some of what I have been doing instead.” Marta releases her hold on Ayla’s hands and gets comfortable on the couch. 

Shortly before Ayla had left Marta’s husband, who had been living in assisted care for his deteriorating health for a number of years despite his young age, had passed from his ailments. They had been busy making sure all of the paperwork was done and picking themselves up to move on. Ayla had left the moment she had been sure Marta would be taken care of. She had never been close to him, but she had loved him enough to be heartbroken at his passing. Mostly for her mother.

Marta told Ayla of the large investment and insurance payouts she had been waiting on. They had been well enough off already. The house paid for, retirement funds full enough to survive. Marta used much of the money to set up funds for house repairs and a trust for Ayla should she ever return. The disappearance of Ayla left her emotionally bereft, fae came to visit her and promised to help her however they could. Some of Ayla’s friends still came around to visit and a few Day faeries helped tend her garden. Marta quit her job at the bookstore several years ago and now focuses on volunteer work and community involvement. 

“Ten years is simultaneously an eternity and a speck in time.” Marta says in a wistful tone. “The days that I missed you were the longest.”

“I was afraid to come here.” Ayla admits.

“Why would you be afraid to come home?”

“What if you weren’t here anymore? What if something had happened? I didn’t know, and I almost didn’t want to know. But I had to, I realized that I had hurt you when I left, I needed to know that you are okay.” By the time she finishes the last sentence she is crying again.

“There is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.”

They embrace again. After several minutes of Ayla crying into her mother’s chest like a small child she sits up.

“I’m so sorry, I love you too. I promise to stay with you.” Ayla speaks with conviction and Marta knows that the promise of a faerie, even one of mixed blood, is not easily broken.

\----------------------------------------------------

The pair eat a late afternoon lunch and continue to talk until Lady arrives again as she said she would. Ayla invites her inside the house to discuss their plans. Marta offers her a room to stay in if she will be in town long.

“Actually, it might be best if I stay here, I appreciate it.” Lady is put at ease due to the kindness extended to her from Marta. “Dante and Trish might need a place though…”

“Those are the other friends that helped Ayla correct? They can stay here too, so long as someone doesn’t mind taking the upstairs couch. It’s quite comfortable.” Marta enjoys having guests and feels she owes at least that much to the people who brought her daughter back. 

“What about Nero?” Ayla asks.

“He went to Fortuna to see Kyrie. His...uh...girlfriend.” Lady doesn’t necessarily question what Kyrie is to Nero, but it’s not like he discusses his relationship openly.

“Oh.” Ayla is slightly surprised by this information, but it’s to be expected, he isn’t a little boy anymore. “And I will just assume we won’t need room for Vergil.”

Lady gives a dead-toned ‘no’ in response. Marta shifts her gaze between the two of them, clearly looking for answers to a question she won’t ask.

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Ayla knows she will need to eventually.

Marta inquires how long people will be staying. Ayla explains that strange occurrences have been happening and they have been traced back to the fae courts. Unsurprisingly Marta is aware of the influx of demons and is also aware that they seem to come from the Night lands. She tells Ayla that she will need to talk to her friends in the court to get more information. In the meantime Lady gives the home address to Trish and Dante.

Marta asks about Nero. Ayla glossed over him and mom is unsure of who he is. Ayla tells her that it is a subject for another time knowing her mother will respect her choice not to speak of it now.

Lady settles into a spare room on the bottom floor of the house. It has its own ensuite, and a large window that looks out on the back garden. While Lady gets settled in Ayla is lead up to her bedroom, which was converted into another guest room. It has a daybed which Marta tells her they can replace with a larger bed. She also lets Ayla know that a number of her belongings are stored in the closet. She leaves Ayla to make sure Lady has settled in and has everything she needs.

Ayla approaches a blue stained wood bookcase that looks largely unchanged. Many of her books and some of Ayla’s favored belongings are displayed in the shelves. She runs her fingers over the book covers and lingers over her copy of Uranometria. She smiles while recalling Vergil’s stony response to her accusation that he may have taken her copy of the book. In the closet are several boxes labeled ‘Ayla’. A box that isn’t taped closed contains a few items of clothing and a blanket that Ayla loved to snuggle into on colder nights. Aside from the bookcase and bed there is a small desk and a nightstand with a lamp. Another closed door on the side of the room opposite the bookcase opens to an en-suite bathroom. 

She looks out of the window and is met with a different view than she remembers. The tree that had not been tall or full enough to reach her window now towers over it. Its long branches hanging low enough to provide shade and block some of the view of the hill next to the house. She heads back downstairs. Marta informs her that Lady has left again but gave her cell number in case they need her. 

“We need to get you a phone.” Marta taps a finger to her lips and stares at Ayla in thought. “And we need to get you some clothes and toiletries. I saved a couple of your outfits, but those are a decade old. Oh, I gave some of your fae friends a few of your things. If you need them back or want to replace them just let me know.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------

On the way to the local shopping center Ayla admires the expensive SUV that Marta must have purchased with her extra cash.

“I don’t drive many places anymore, but I do like a nice ride.”

“Nice ride might be an understatement.” Ayla had never seen a car so technologically advanced and quite so luxurious. She runs her hands over the black leather admiring the quality and detail. She wonders if there is such a thing as couture car interiors.

Their first stop is the cellular store. Her mother allows her to play with the floor models and get a feel for what she would like. Ayla selects a sleek new smartphone and a case. Their next stops are several clothing stores. Marta recommends just buying a few simple outfits for now. The town may be in a coastal warm climate but the early spring can be cold so she can’t avoid buying a few jackets. Ayla prefers tops and dresses with no sleeves or straps. She does not often display her wings and it can be awkward feeling if she has to manifest them through a layer of clothing.

By the time the sun has gone down Ayla has a number of new shoes and plenty of clothes to get by. They stop for dinner at an Italian restaurant and Ayla sends a text message to Lady.

Ayla (1 min.): It’s Ayla, we got a phone for me.

Lady (Just now): Sweet! Dante and Trish are on their way over. See you at home.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

They arrive home to Lady’s SUV and two motorcycles parked to the side of the driveway. Dante and Trish are on the living room couch speaking with Lady when they walk in. Introductions are made. Trish greets Marta cordially and Dante works his charms like magic.

“Had I known I would be meeting such a lovely woman I would have dressed up.”

Marta laughs and tells him the effort to charm her is not needed.

“You can help bring in our shopping, that might work better.”

He willingly agrees to assist and brings in the comically large amount of bags in one trip. Lady and Trish help Ayla unpack and put everything away while Marta gets her guest beds prepared. Dante is informed he will be out on the upstairs couch but he does not seem bothered by that one bit.

Ayla is hit with a wave of tiredness she didn’t notice while dealing with the day’s excitement. She is physically and emotionally drained. 

She says her thanks to everyone and hugs Marta before bidding them all goodnight and heading upstairs to her room. Her mind is blessedly blank now. For the last day and a half she has felt detached from herself and constantly overwhelmed. Despair paired with anxiety and exhaustion had taken over her. Her last thought as she fell into her bed, clothes still on, was that she hopes she wakes as herself again in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, long time no see!
> 
> I am still working on this and since DMC5 just came out (I beat it in a day) I am super inspired. Vergil's canon characterization is everything I hoped for and made some of my wildest dreams come true.
> 
> That being said, this story is completely not canon-compliant, obviously, seeing as I had been operating under the assumption that DMC5 would never actually exist. I have been wanting to write this for years and I am going to finish it!
> 
> The new game also backed-up plot points that I already had planned for this story as far as character development of all of the DMC characters. This will help my already planned character arcs not seem too OOC.
> 
> I am also going through and correcting my first few chapters. I have gotten marginally better at writing and would like to go fix some of my more obvious errors. 
> 
> ****As always thank you for the Kudos and any comments. Special thanks to the anon who asked me when I am updating on my blog. That was the big motivation push I needed to get this going again. <3***


	8. I drop the darkness in, and watch it grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some tough discussions and Ayla's return visit to the Dark fae lands.

Falling. She’s falling into an endless pit. She opens her mouth to scream.

Ayla jolts awake with a gasp. She’s covered in sweat; adrenaline coursing through her making her heart feel like it’s on fire. She throws the covers from the bed and stumbles to the bathroom. Collapsing into the countertop she catches sight of her reflection. Her hair is a mess and she is pale but looking whole. Figuring a shower will do some good she turns the faucet to hot.

She emerges from the shower 20 minutes later feeling refreshed and relaxed. The house is quiet but the sound of trimming shears can be heard outside her window. Her mother must be out tending to the oleander bushes that line the low fence separating the side yard from the hill. 

It’s noon by the time she is dressed and finally looks at the time on her phone. Just as she had wished the night before she feels more like herself today. Her mind is calm and movement comes much more fluidly than it had the past couple of days. She felt like a clod under the close scrutiny of her new acquaintances and even more ridiculous when caught in Vergil’s line of sight. She can’t imagine she made first impressions she should be proud of.

Once downstairs she meets Marta in the kitchen having a water break. 

“Well hello. Finally awake and you look so much better! I knew you were tired. I didn’t want to wake you.” She talks as she washes her hands and grabs two glasses to fill with tap water. Ayla accepts the glass and downs it quickly, filling it once again.

“Yeah, in fact just as I was falling asleep last night I thought to myself that I would wake up better.” She sips from her glass. “I can think a lot more clearly today. Are you busy?”

“Oh just working in the yard, but I can do whatever you want!”

“I want to go walk at the beach.”

“Hmm, it’s still a bit cold to go in the water, but a walk along the beach won’t hurt. Let me get ready and we’ll head out. Your friends went out late this morning, said they would be back in the evening.” Marta shuts the sliding glass door leading to the back yard. “Give me about ten?”

“Sounds good.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

The house is a quick 15 minutes from one of the busier beaches in the area, but during this time of year it’s easy to find parking and for the most part the beach is empty if you walk toward the cliffs. The fresh air and cool breeze are exhilarating and lend Ayla a clarity she has not felt since she woke from her long nap. 

“Mom, I have a son.” 

The pair cease their walking. Marta’s expression turns to one of questioning concern but she says nothing. Ayla heaves a sigh and faces the ocean.

“Remember the run-in I had with the Order of the Sword when I was a teenager?” She doesn’t wait for a response, she knows her mother remembers her first disappearance. “I was used by them. I didn’t know what for at the time, but once I got out I kept digging for information. It wasn’t until 8 years later that I found out what they had done.”

Marta grabs her hand and squeezes it.

“I went to see him for myself. I knew instantly he was mine.”

“How?” 

“He felt like me...and someone else. He’s powerful. I knew that even when he was a boy.” Ayla turns to face her mother. “He’s grown now. I don’t know how to feel about it mom.”

“It’s okay.” Marta brushes a soothing hand over her cheek. “I’m glad you are talking about this.”

“That’s not the only thing. I met his father.”

“You ‘met’ him, did you not know him before?”

“No, I think I only provided the DNA for the Order to create our child. If I am understanding things correctly Vergil was in Hell when all of this happened.”

“Vergil, is that his name?” Marta asks, ignoring the Hell part for the time being and hiding her concerns.

“Yes, it’s Dante’s brother. My son’s name is Nero. Shit mom, all of this is so insane. I feel like my brain is unravelling, I don’t know what to do next. Dante, Lady, and Trish have come to investigate all of the demonic activity here but they don’t have access to the fae lands. I offered to help them.” She can tell she is starting to ramble so she reigns herself back in.

“Well, this certainly is a lot to swallow, but here’s what I think: You always do well when you have a goal. Right now your goal is to help them right? In order to do that you should talk to your Night friends, you should be able to find them tonight.” Marta grasps Ayla’s shoulders and gives them a squeeze, “You know I love you no matter what. I will support you however I can. These people you have met; I can tell they are good. They care about you.”

“Thank you, mom.”

They embrace in a tight squeeze, smiling to each other when they separate. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ayla feels lighter after talking with her mother. They return home to eat dinner after doing some boutique shopping on the coast. Ayla is quickly developing a shopping habit, apparently in the last ten years aesthetic trends have taken off in a direction she adores. 

Dante, Trish, and Lady pull into the driveway just as the sun has started to set. Marta and Ayla are finishing up their meal but they set about making room for their guests.

“Good thing I made a lot.” Marta says as she grabs more dishes. 

The trio recount their activities for the day which mostly consisted of scouting the city for demon activity and canvassing the locals for information. 

“So, we really didn’t get too much done, this town is and really does put you at ease.” Dante says between bites of food.

While the rest of the group chats about the local area Ayla’s gaze drifts to the window, the last rays of light have dimmed into twilight. She is struck by another wave of exhaustion, though it is not physical, and feels the need to retreat from the activity of the kitchen and lie down. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She wakes to the stillness of the night. There is a chill coming from her still open window. She throws her blanket aside to make her way over and shut it, but not before glancing out at the sky. It is not too late, there is still plenty of time left to visit the fae. She changes into pants to ward off at least some of the cold but leaves on her light top which is low enough on her back to allow her to freely manifest her wings without too much thought. 

Dante is resting on the upstairs couch and is about to succumb to slumber when Ayla emerges from her room. He watches through barely slitted eyes as she gently treads across to the stairs then he listens to the front door open and close. As soon as it shuts he leaps to his feet and climbs onto the roof via the window to watch which direction she goes.

Ayla heads to the side of the house next to the hill. At a time like this all manner of fae creatures will be crossing into the Night lands. Many of which leave faint glowing trails through the air. She spots one and follows it over the hill and down the road. Her home is only a short distance away from the border, after a few minutes of walking she cuts off of the road into the forest. She can hear the water of the creek drawing closer and when she is almost upon it she stops. 

Her wings manifest and she pushes off of the ground to jump over the water. Her wings can aid her on their own just enough to make it across, but she exerts a small amount of power to ensure she drifts quietly into the trees far away from the watcher’s domain. Her wings dissipate into the dark as soon as she lands.

Dante has watched from his perch high in a dense tree. He remembers what she said about not touching the creek or its banks as well as her warnings about not entering the fae lands until she can do some investigating. Satisfied with the information he has gathered for now he leaps down and heads the opposite direction.

Ayla quickly comes upon more faint trails leading toward of a gathering of tiny winged creatures. Their large black eyes turn to her as she approaches, they startle from their conversations and their gentle pale glow dims to almost nothing. 

“Worry not, I am a friend.” These creatures do not recognize her or their greeting would have been one of welcome.

“A friend of the court?”

“A friend of the fae.” A careful answer to an important question. They seem to accept it; the small cloud of glowing fae approach her.

They swirl in front of her examining and communing with one another. 

“If friend, then come with us.”

This is the greeting she was looking for. She follows as they lead her deeper into the forest. This path is familiar, she has traveled it many times before and knows the way well. When they reach the hidden entrance to the Court she thanks the fae for guiding her. Pleased with her gratitude, the faeries give her kisses on her cheeks before departing. This provides her with a charm of fortune that will last only this night. 

For now she has remained unseen by anyone else so she waits to see if she can spot anyone she recognizes. A thin bird-legged woman exits the Court and spots Ayla. The woman immediately squawks and rushes over to her.

“Ah! Ayla, is that you?” The woman’s enormous yellow eyes are bright as they look over the young woman. 

“Yes, yes, it’s me Atria.” Ayla smiles gently at the over-excited greeting and tries to remind herself that while she may feel that she has seen everyone here just last week they have had an entirely different experience.

“Oh my, it’s been...a while.” Ten years in the human world is a long time, but for fae time can go by rather quickly under the hill. Atria extends one lightly feathered arm to touch Ayla’s hair. “What lead you away?”

“It’s a long story, I am glad I found you! I haven’t been here for a long time...can you tell me if my friends are still here?” Ayla refers to the three fae that she would spend many of her nights with in and out of the Court. Over many years and plenty of adventures the group had become something like family to each other. Atria grins and gives her an excited nod before wrapping her long arm around Ayla’s shoulders and tugging her to away from the entrance.

“You are in luck, I saw them on my way here to pick up orders. I can drop you off with them. We will have to catch up later though, I have work to do!”

They make their way from the Court entrance and into the woods. Atria expresses that Ayla’s friends will be happy to see her. They arrive at a dimly lit clearing where the light of a fire extends from a rock formation sticking out of a hill. Ayla recognizes the voices coming from within the small cave as those of her friends. Her heart beats with excitement and a rush of adrenaline sets her limbs tingling.

“Hey you again! I brought something.” Atria calls out as she steps into the entrance of the cave ahead of Ayla. 

“Hey Atria, don’t you have work to do?” A man’s good natured jab rings out clearly but there is no follow-up to it as Ayla steps into the light.

The three occupants of the cave cease in their activities. The man slaps a hand against the table, jarring their cups, and the two women with him both stand and rush at Ayla.

“AYLAAAAAAA!” One screams into her ear as they wrap their arms around her. The women are throwing a dozen questions at her and the man has finally come up to hug her as well. From within the threefold embrace Ayla manages a strained ‘hello’.

Atria makes a quiet exit while the friends drag Ayla to their table.

“Child where have you been? We thought you died or something.” Deveran speaks first. He was born in the night Court and sworn to its sovereign from childhood. His dark hair, blue skin, and shining grey horns signify his ancestry of the ancient Unseelie, a Court that is long dead. 

While in the fae lands glamour disguises are not needed. Despite this Camilla and Lyra’s true forms remain hidden behind a facade Ayla finds very familiar. Both are fae of the earth that have sworn allegiance to the Dark King to be allowed to remain in this forest under his protection. Camilla’s dark green skin is currently dark brown and her black hair is piled on her head in braids. Lyra’s lighter green skin is covered with a pale glamour and her green hair is blonde and worn down.

“Yes, please tell us, we missed you.” Camilla presses, Lyra nods along with her. 

“I…” She struggles, glancing between her three friends. The feeling that she might break down crying again starts to creep up her throat. How could she have thought to abandon her friends forever?

“It’s okay.” Lyra’s calming voice soothes her. She had always been soft-spoken and able to put anyone at ease. “Take your time, we have all night. The specifics of your disappearance are shrouded in untruth, we tried to find you, but it was as if even your memory had been covered up.”

Ayla takes a deep breath and begins to recount her tale. She describes everything from the moment of discovering Nero to her return. Her friends listen intently and are appalled at her horrific treatment. When Ayla is done her friends bring out food and strong mead.

“Well drink up, forget that for the moment. Let us tell you some things that have happened in your absence.” Camilla hands Ayla an entire bottle of mead. 

“Before we start I want to ask, what has the King been doing? The people who saved me are demon hunters and they strongly suspect demons have been coming from within the fae lands.”

The three fae look to one-another. Deveran leans toward her.

“They are not wrong. Demons have been in our lands for a while now. The King seems to allow their activities, though he is frequently absent in the Court lately.”

“Is it safe in the Court?” Ayla has been allowed in with no problems in the past, but had felt unwelcome in the months leading up to her discovery of Nero. Her father usually ignored her presence, and she thought nothing of what he did as leader of the Dark fae.

“I would not go right now.” Camilla says, “The King has had unsavory guests.” She is none too happy about this and her expression sours, as if recollecting a bad experience. Lyra hands her a mead cup and fills in more information.

“These guests are lawless faeries. While they have made a deal with the King they are not sworn to him. It makes for tense situations. There are rumors that they are able to tell lies. The three of us believe they are demons, but the King would deny this.”

“Demons in the Court? That’s...not good.” She thinks aloud. This will be interesting information for her new friends. 

“Either way, stay clear of the Court for now. We can take you in on a night when your father is not there.”

Not one to ever question her friends judgement she agrees to stay out of the Court. She never liked her father and never claimed any rights as a daughter of the Dark King. She has close allies that support her and teach her the ways of the fae, they tell her sometimes that she would make a better ruler of their lands. Anyone would probably be a better ruler, she thinks to herself.

“For now, we drink and gossip like the bitches we are.” Deveran takes a swig of his drink and launches into a bawdy tale about a human man he managed to seduce only to scare away due to a slip-up with his glamour. 

Ayla sinks into her old routine of joking and enjoying herself as the night goes on. She finishes the bottle of mead and succeeds in drowning out the constant swirl of thoughts that have been plaguing her.

The group of friends grow quite inebriated, but they can still tell the dawn is on its way. They walk to border and assist Ayla in crossing it without disturbing the watcher. From there she makes her way back home just as light beings to emerge from the horizon. She slips past Dante, who has fallen asleep fully clothed on the downstairs couch. It doesn’t even register to her that he is not where she last saw him. At least this time she can fall into a heavy slumber aided by faerie drink.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

She wakes with a start, bright sunlight pierces her eyes and she groans only to drop her head back down on her pillow. Not a second later her eyes fly open again.

“Shit!” She stands rapidly and stumbles to her bathroom then a few minutes later stumbles out again. She finds her phone in her bed and looks at the time. 11:40. “SHIT!”

She has 20 minutes to get dressed and get to the town center to meet Vergil. She checks the weather outside, it’s going to be unusually warm and bright. A perfect excuse to wear sunglasses, if she could find them. Abandoning her search she goes to her closet and pulls out the first item she can get her hands on, a dark teal halter romper. It’s adorable and she loves it because it has pockets, but she doesn’t have the time to examine herself in the mirror before she grabs her phone and bolts. 

Everyone is downstairs and Ayla does not miss the questioning looks she is getting. She just has to leave, now. 

“Mom, car keys! I’m super late.”

“I guess you had a good time with your friends.” Marta chuckles and hands her the keys to the SUV along with some cash.

“I will tell you about it later. Thanks, bye!”

It takes her a few minutes to figure out how the car works, but she is on the road in no time. While stopped at a light she takes the opportunity to examine herself in the rear-view mirror. 

“Fucking yikes…” She concentrates just enough to glamour her appearance into looking more ‘sexy-messy’ rather than ‘trashy-messy’. It works okay and she feels slightly better about herself. If only she could magic away her mild hangover.

She is ten minutes late by the time she spots Vergil and makes her way over to him. He stands out amongst the citizens of the town like a beacon of negative energy in an otherwise bright and happy locale. He does not seem angry, which sets her at ease.

“Hey, thanks for waiting.” She greets, coming to stand beside him to look into the fountain at the base of the statue. She enjoys that people throw coins in to make wishes, it’s cute. 

“Trouble parking?” He asks, also turning to look into the water.

“Eh, actually I was up pretty late. I went to meet my friends last night.” She looks up at him and catches him watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Were you able to find out anything?”

“Well, kinda. But first, I am in dire need of fresh air and coffee. I will explain what I can but let’s head over to the beachfront. There has to be a cafe.” She starts in the direction of the sea breeze, they are close enough to the ocean that the air is salty and the waves can be heard as a faint crashing. Vergil walks beside and slightly behind her, allowing her to play mother duck this time.

She spots a cafe sign a few shops down and picks up the pace. It’s a bit crowded inside but they are able to walk up to the counter and put in an order. 

“A croissant and a vanilla creme iced coffee for me. Do you want anything?” She asks Vergil. 

“Black coffee.” 

“Dark roast plain.” The barista says and makes no attempt to hide that he is critically examining the man wearing such heavy clothing on a nice warm day. When the total is given Ayla pauses in shock while attempting to extricate the bills from her pocket when Vergil extends his hand with his bank card. Her eyes bug out; recognizing the thick metal card as one exclusive to higher net worth individuals. Those accounts are invitation only. He must be loaded.

They take a newly vacated table for two at the window, which has been opened to let in the breeze. Ayla closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. She’s already feeling better.

“So, how does one get a black card invitation while trapped on another level of existence?”

“I don’t actually know that myself.” Vergil answers, he’s staring across the table at Ayla, who opens her eyes at his answer.

“What?”

The barista delivers their drinks and her croissant.

“Thank you.” Vergil picks up his steaming mug of coffee, “That is a story for another time.” He proceeds to down the entire mug, giving no indication that the drink is practically at boiling temperature. Ayla’s eyes widen once again and her hands freeze over her plate. He sets the empty mug back down on the table, his lips curved into a subtle smirk.

“Ugh.” Her face moves down to rest in her hands. She hasn’t had enough sleep for this, she can’t think of anything clever or witty to say and she can’t even begin to think of how to handle Vergil.

“So.” He leans in, resting his forearms on the table, “What have you learned?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> This chapter was so incredibly difficult to write, which might be why it is a bit shorter than the others. This is the final "setup" chapter so now the story can take off and go to fun and interesting places. I am super excited for the upcoming chapters and very encouraged by the comments I have gotten. Thank you so much for reading! It's late and I have been looking at this chapter for way too long so I am more than likely going to come back and fix some errors over the next few days while I get the next chapter going.
> 
> Deveran is based on my RL best friend who is as gay as they come. He is an aristocratic fae who works as a member of the Court, which is why he has a more fancy 'fantasy' name compared to Camilla and Lyra. 
> 
> Coming up: Our first encounter with Bright fae and Ayla gets to show off some of her power.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to my first ever Devil May Cry fan fiction. 
> 
> I have been a huge fan of the series for over 10 years. Vergil is my favorite fictional character and I am looking forward to developing his character over the course of this work. This fic also serves as my first foray into novel-writing as a lot of the story, characters, and locations will be original ideas. I am a fan of modern, gritty faerie tales and am heavily inspired by the author Holly Black.
> 
> If you love faeries, magic, and Devil May Cry I hope you will love this story. This story is tagged with Vergil/OC romance, I will tell you now that the romance happens slowly and develops over the course of the fic. So if you are looking for a down and dirty smut-fic you might be disappointed. 
> 
> Feel free to look me up on tumblr and please leave a comment


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